Since the tragedy at hand is revealed in the title, there’s precious little suspense about what will ultimately transpire during the play’s 90 minutes. But oh my, the bounteous script by Terry Guest abounds with treasures which are delivered by the two-person cast with unalloyed passion and purpose.
The two people involved are drag queens in a backwater corner of Georgia, each with their own dreams and demons. Anthony is at heart a rather diffident, quiet Black person until his drag persona Courtney Berringers takes over, and she is a non-stop avalanche of snappy put-downs, hilarious one-liners and a stunning lack of intimacy boundaries.
Courtney is who we meet from the start, and in that role Jason Eno cuts a powerful image with his serious guns and to-die-for legs. After she informs us that she’s just died at age 23, she proceeds to attack a drag number with all the muscularity of Travis Kelce crossing over the middle to snag a bullet pass.
Soon, he is joined by Hunter (a warm and supportive Dan Hendrock), a good ol’ Southern boy who performs as Vicky Versailles. They don’t know each other to start, but their feeling-out process ends with a dandy suck-and-fuck session back at Anthony’s crib, delicately illuminated to reveal only so much by lighting designer Benjamin Gantose.
Once the boys have gotten over their initial exploratory stage, The rest of the show is a kluge of memories and mysteries as they share with each other and also talk directly to the audience, as if it were an actual drag show with audience participation.
Anthony talks about his grandma and how, after she got a sense of the challenges her gay grandchild would face, said “You gotta find a way to stand up straight in a crooked room.” And he recalls his mom’s gasp when she saw him dressed for the first time: “Oh, you look just like me.”
We learn less about Hunter, but do find out that he was scared of his tempestuous dad, and wonders why Anthony is “always in attack mode.” Hunter dreams of taking his V.V. act away from the sticks and to New York City, even if he has to live with rats and cockroaches.
As the play progresses, sparks continue to fly as conversations and diatribes turn on a dime with little or no transitions. this could become tiresome but director Preston Crowder continually energizes the performance while giving the actors room to explore a wide variety of emotions— along with the dazzling, witty costumes designed by Suwatana Rockland. Even the frequent on-stage costume changes are a cause of amusement. As Courtney says when observing Vickie getting dressed, “She looks like a one-legged possum climbing a tree.”
The songs that are performed vary in skill, as you might expect from young artists who are still laboring in the minor leagues of drag. But each song casts their its own spell especially when Courtney dresses up as “Wizard of Oz” era Judy Garland.
The script isn’t as tight as it could be, with repetitions and a couple flat spots. And one wishes Guest could have delved more deeply into the historical roots of “drag” performance style, including African Gods and Goddesses, plus pop and Southern influences. Those ideas are touched on, but only serve to whet the appetite for more. In spite of that, the absolute commitment displayed by the performers makes the show a compelling watch.
Towards the end, Courtney asks the audience “What’s the craziest thing you’ve done for love.” Of course, the answers to that will vary wildly from show to show. But what remains is the thought of what drag performers such as Courtney and Vickie do for the love of their art, and their identity.
When Anthony (and Courtney) die, as we knew they would, the space is not left empty. They remain visible in our minds, and stand tall as a rebuke to those who would deny drag performers the right to deliver their art—in this country and in this state.
At the Wake of a Dead Drag Queen
Through Feb. 18 at Dobama Theatre, 2340 Lee Rd, Cleveland Heights, dobama.org.
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This article appears in Jan 31 – Feb 13, 2024.
