Foremost, there is Warren, who delivers a performance of superhuman stamina and skill. She's more tightly controlled than the real-life Turner; her movement is sharper, her vocals less raspy, and she barely seems to break a sweat. But she makes the part her own. During the mini-concert that ends the show, in Turner's trademark punk-lioness hair-free from the burden of narrative, and backed by an onstage band-Warren struts with earned confidence. The audience by then is on its feet, and at hers. She has risen.