Playwright: The ensemble
At: Neo-Futurarium, 5153 N. Ashland
Phone: ( 773 ) 275-5255; $10-$15
Through Dec. 9
BY SCOTT C. MORGAN
Dabbling in drag is a provocation to cross society's gender divisions. Assuming the appearance and mannerisms of the opposite sex can be empowering and emotional—a declaration of independence to counter rigid gender roles by simultaneously subverting and assuming masculine and feminine stereotypes.
So many charged feelings of fun and defiance are mixed into the act and art of drag, making it an ideal subject for the Neo-Futurists to explore theatrically. Too bad that the Neo-Futurists' expansively titled Drag turns out to be such a glib and scattershot show.
Drag certainly doesn't suffer from a lack of viewpoints. The cast of performer/writers features drag queens of the Latino ( Cesar Torres ) and Caucasian ( Dean Evans ) varieties; an absolute-knockout male-to-female transsexual ( Gabrielle Schaffer ) ; a semi-butch drag king performer ( Jessica Hudson ) ; and a lumbering straight guy ( Dylan Reiff ) who feels comfortable enough with his masculinity to don makeup and dresses.
One problem is that Drag's performers, diverse as they may be, largely just skim the surface of the show's subject. Drag is limited to the performers' own personal experiences of growing up in the 1980s. That may be truthful, but where is their fascination ( let alone research ) into drag's grand historical traditions like British pantomime theater or drag balls during the Harlem Renaissance?
Co-director Evans mentions that he personally wanted to explore drag in a show, but then barely shares his childhood story of homophobia. Gyrating to a medley of Prince pop hits is an amusing but unenlightening ending to his story.
Torres shares his pop cultural influences in his coming-out process ( such as author Clive Barker and the sea witch Ursula in The Little Mermaid ) , but we never quite see the direct connection they have with his fascination or frequency of performing in drag.
Another frustration is that some performers' self-referential stories become tiresome navel-gazing. Hudson makes a good point about her doubts of being a lone representative for all drag kings, but do we really care that she keeps trying to kill off one of her drag king personas?
Other sketches arrive in shambles, like Reiff's bizarre analogy likening oppressed same-sex-attracted minorities to sci-fi/fantasy geeks. ( If the idea was not clear and going to be self-mocked, why did co-director Sharon Green include it? ) A rare historical sketch drawn from Norse mythology trumpets hetero-sexist violence more than celebrating drag's subversive qualities.
The one exception to Drag's shallowness is Schaffer's delivery of grounded and touching monologues as a transsexual. Schaffer's accounts of her strained relationship with her Rockford-based father and her ultimate transition shine some much needed light and genuine feeling into this show's crazy-quilt construction.
More of Schaffer's openness and honesty from the other performers would have made Drag so much more meaningful and enlightening. As it's made up now, Drag only flirts with its topic instead of embodying all its exuberant and anarchic qualities.
