Casey, an Elvis impersonator, can’t attract customers to Eddie’s bar-nightclub in a tanky, though beachy, Florida town. Too bad because Casey’s overdrawn at the bank, his old friend but now landlord needs the rent, his loved wife’s revealed she’s pregnant, and Eddie’s just fired him. Miss Tracy Mills, a drag diva, enters extravagantly to fill the bill for Eddie. Since her young co-star Rexy is drinking too much, Miss Tracy solicits Casey to fit the bill, teaching him how to become the play’s titled legend.
As an older woman, I’m usually not a fan of drag performers -- feeling as I suspect black people might feel about white minstrels -- because their transformative traits and performances so often demean those they imitate or “become.” But Miss Tracy doesn’t hit a bad note, and here Kraig Swartz is a fine, really sensitive person and ebullient entertainer whose Miss Tracy is never stupid, mocking, or vulgar. S/he/they made me a fan of Kraig, with special enjoyment of costumes both onstage and, in a poignant personal scene, offstage.
Casey’s learning about women’s clothes, especially underwear and high heels, supplies much of the early comedy, accompanied by lip-synching performances that involve wide-open lips, frantic gestures, and—instead of actually sung lyrics—substituting screeched syllables. But doesn’t he grow to like being a real partner of the fabulous Miss Tracy? And from acting to costumed finery to regard for other people of every kind? Britt Michael Gordon does an amazing job of widening the perspective of a straight man.
Eric Hoffmann’s cash-counting Eddie may only want more money but he keeps becoming a closer real friend to his employees. He’s ever better and funnier at introducing the drag acts, always wearing new clothes that fit the shows to follow, whether reflecting a holiday or political or weather theme.
Stanley Martin is fine in a small part as Jason. Mainly his strength as Rexy is bringing a lot of attention to what many a person has suffered from anti-gays and how one may fare personally in protest against social and political conditions.
Although the sole woman in the cast, Tatiana Williams as Casey’s wife Jo impresses with her love and concern for him, as well as her realistic way of dealing with their life and all its changes. She’s also black and beautiful. And how about her neat portrayal as a mother?
One would have to be a daily observer of drag shows to be complacent about the colorful opulence of costumes, wigs, and lighting that dress author Matthew Lopez’s gay—in every sense—play. It’s also drenched in great songs performed partially or wholly under and amid myriad hues of lighting.
Director Kate Alexander, whom I’ve always admired as a consummate director of women performers (having herself been one of the best), reaches to the top of her achievements with males here. She has all in the cast become a legendary family, perfectly reflecting the author’s view of a perfect group.
