The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Drag: The Musical at New World Stages
By Ross
It’s a fairy story in drag, introduced by producer Liza Minnelli, who, naturally, opens the whole thing up with a prelude to a Rock song like no other. It blasts forth, magnificently and with more glitter and hairspray than one can imagine. “Welcome to the Fishtank“, they sing, as well as to a little bit of “Cat House Fever“, as two rival Drag Clubs, across the street from one another, both alike, well, maybe not so much in dignity, somewhere fairily fair, is where Drag: The Musical lays its sorted scene. From a not-so ancient lovers grudge break to new mutiny, and where blood-red wigs make accountant hands unclean. It’s reminiscent of some bigger quarrel, yet no one knows why these two lovers became rivals. It’s basically Shakespearian, they tell us, but the question must not be asked.
And even though I saw this in the evening after seeing the real R+J deal played out like a rave party scene overflowing with teddy bears and glitter, this new Drag musical, with book, music, and lyrics by Tomas Costanza, Ashley Gordon, and Justin Andrew Honard (Alaska’s non-kitty kat name), struts its stuff on that stage like no tomorrow, and girl, it’s truly a good time had by all. Something akin to The Big Gay Jamboree downtown in the East Village (yet more like a distant drunk cousin than separated siblings), this show overflows with clever gay constructs that should be drank with joyful enthusiasm, without a second thought or concern. The show, like Jamboree, is effervescent fun corsetted into an outrageous dress with a colorful wig pinned on top, and as costumed by Marco Marco, the result is pure genius pleasure, with a surprising bit of carefully crafted love and acceptance slipping in the back door for good measure.
Directed and choreographed with a solid dash of glee and glitter by Spencer Liff (ch: Broadway’s Head Over Heels), Drag: The Musical arrives in high-heeled splendor at Off Broadway’s New World Stages after a big-haired run in Los Angeles, and is welcomed by a crowd as excited as one could be. The plot, as simple as a box full of receipts, rides in like the quarreling Montagues and the Capulets, but in Drag, pushed apart by hate, that was brought upon by love. The rivalry doesn’t bring any bladed violence to the street where two drag clubs face off every night for patrons and Drunk Jerry’s (Eddie Korbich) approval, but it does elicit snarls and queen-bee swipes at one another like only some loyal drag queens can create.
On one side is the Fish Tank, run by the determined Alexis Gillmore, played muscular and vocally spectacular by Nick Adams (Broadway’s Priscilla, Queen of the Desert). “She’s [definitely] All That” backed up by her trio of devoted divas: Tuna Turner, played hilariously by Lagoona Bloo; Popcorn, played delightfully by Luxx Noir London; and Dixie Cosworth, portrayed forcibly by the spectacular Liisi LaFontaine. On the other, sits the Cat House, with head “Queen Kitty” Galloway, regally portrayed by Alaska Thunderfuck, taking her rightful place on the throne, with her trio of kitty kats: The Tigress, played magnificently by Jujubee; Savanna St. James, portrayed cleverly by Jan Sport; and Puss Puss DuBois, playfully portrayed by a very funny Nick Laughlin; standing faithfully by her side. All of them wickedly funny and fiercely talented.
Both clubs are struggling, for some very different reasons, all brought on by the fabulously evil trickster, portrayed ferociously by three-times-a-charm J. Elaine Marcos (Broadway’s Annie), who never met an exit door that didn’t sparkle in her departure. Entering to make their lives miserable, cause she can, the “Gloria Schmidt” crisis forces some walls to be climbed and a few alliances to be forged, mainly between Adams’ Alexis and her estranged accountant brother, Tom, played very effectively by New Kids on the Block‘s Joey McIntyre (Broadway’s Wicked), with his young son, Brendan Hutchinson, played alternatively by Yair Keydar and Remi Tuckman, tagging along for more reasons than he thinks.
“Drag is Expensive” we are passionately told by the singing crew of most excellent divas, and we can see why. The musical, with some well-heeled jokes and obvious plot pathways dotted with many easily seen glow-in-the-dark twists ahead, looks as good as can be. It’s like an expensive ghetto trash glitter bag made-to-order perfect for its surroundings, thanks to the strong creative team made up of set designer Jason Sherwood (NYTW’s Endlings); lighting designer Adam Honoré (Broadway’s Purlie Victorious); and sound designer Drew Levy (Broadway’s A Strange Loop).
The music and songs are sometimes hilariously “Gay as Hell” gorgeous, or endearingly “Straight Man” charming. McIntyre is having a grand ol’ time playing his Miss April 15th alongside LaFontaine’s Dixie, a coupling that can be seen coming from outside the New World Stage’s theatre. But it’s his not-so-straight dude son who prances out the wondrous “I’m Just Brendan” which brings down the house. Backed by some clever fun dancers: Nicholas Kraft, Christine Shepard, Kodiak Thompson, and Teddy Wilson Jr., that young boy gifts us all with the deliciously boa’d number that we all have been waiting and wanting for us and for him. It’s almost as terrific as the Hot Honey Rag ripping of “Two Bitches Are Better Than One“, performed with style and pizzazz by Kitty and Alexis, that would make Liza with a Z as proud as a mama could be. So everyone stand and applaud for the “Real Queens” of the Cat-Fish. Cause Drag: The Musical, albeit not high art, is high-haired hilarity with a kind loving heart tucked somewhere down below in just the right way that will make Drunk Jerry’s will be heard.