This isn’t the first time Milwaukee audiences have gotten a glimpse of the punk/rock musical, Hedwig and the Angry Inch. In the past few years, it has been performed by local companies both large and small. But this Hedwig is distinctive in more ways than one. For instance, the set designer (Scott Davis) has recreated the feel of an underground nightclub from the moment the audience steps into the lobby. And this version delivers a Hedwig who is more audacious and outrageously funny than one recalls from previous productions. The original Hedwig opened Off-Broadway in 1998, with writer John Cameron Mitchell playing Hedwig, a gentle “slip of a girlieboy” who was born male in East Berlin. He falls in love with a U.S. soldier, who wants to move Hedwig to America. Unfortunately, wearing drag will not be enough to “prove” Hedwig’s gender; he has to be examined by a German doctor. This causes a botched genital surgery that leaves Hedwig with the “angry inch” of the title (it’s also the name of Hedwig’s band). Eventually, the soldier abandons Hedwig. Hedwig is left feeling mutilated in both body and spirit. This leads him on a philosophical search for the perfect “other half” of his self. To make ends meet, he takes on babysitting jobs. One of them leads to an acquaintance with Tommy, a pre-teen. Under Hedwig’s guidance, Tommy becomes a rock superstar. Hedwig, a glutton for punishment, sometimes opens the stage’s back door to hear Tommy performing next door. The cheering fans and Tommy’s music (which Hedwig helped compose) infuriates him.
The original Off-Broadway show gained gradual popularity, and then was revived in 2014 at the Belasco Theater on Broadway. In that production, well-known actor Neil Patrick Harris donned the glittering eyeshadow, assortment of women’s wigs and pantyhose to play the role.
So where is Hedwig now? In the Milwaukee Rep production, he is clearly back in his element, a grungy underground nightclub (ordinarily, the intimate Stiemke Theater). The audience sits on two sides of the stage, and a few “lucky” theatergoers are seated at graffiti-adorned tables located right in front of the stage. These patrons are about to get up close and personal with Hedwig, the main performer, who strolls about the stage and tables with the air of a seasoned nightclub performer.
With the ample assistance of his band (under the direction of Dan Kazemi), Hedwig (Matt Rodin) struts about the room, telling his life story in monologues and songs. Although the music softens occasionally, there is a strong rock and roll element that pulses throughout (sound by designer Barry G. Funderburg). One of the band’s members is also Hedwig’s “husband,” Yitzhak (Bethany Thomas), who is reduced to doing Hedwig’s bidding onstage.
Rodin is completely believable as the sometimes overbearing, sometimes frail Hedwig. He rocks both elements of the character equally well, and he has a terrific singing voice to match. We cannot take our eyes off of Hedwig for a second, for fear we might miss a sniffled tear or a naughty hip thrust (accentuated by a drum roll).
Although she plays second-fiddle to Hedwig, Bethany Thomas is a marvel as well. Her Yitzhak allows Thomas to work in her voice’s upper register, which has an ethereal purity. Under Mark Clements’ able direction, she masks her true identity until the show’s final moments. For all intents and purposes (plus a nicely applied beard), she presents herself as a man. Eventually, she reveals her true nature and we learn that Rodin isn’t the only one onstage doing some gender-bending.
A younger group of cast members represents a clique of roadies, or club kids, or whatever. Dressed in leather and lace, with a haunting, kohl-eyed attractiveness, they begin by taking tickets in the lobby and appear later on the fringes of Hedwig’s stage. They occasionally hop up and down in front of the stage, as club kids are wont to do, during some of the heavy rock numbers. Only one of them interacts with Hedwig directly, but together, they add to the underground club’s appeal (costumes by Mieka van der Ploeg).
Throughout the show, we are treated to the dazzling stage lighting of Jason Fassl, and the artful, Keith Haring-inspired projections of Mike Tutaj. The two decades since Hedwig first appeared off Broadway have seen a growing acceptance of gender identity. And drag (as evidenced by another of Milwaukee Rep’s current shows, The Legend of Georgia McBride) has basically gone mainstream. (RuPaul has his/her own TV show, among other indicators.) Yet, even if the shock factor of Hedwig has worn off, its message of finding one’s own true identity remains.
