Those who are un-hip to the ways of Hedwig Robinson often wonder what that "inch" is and why it is so "angry." Live Arts' twist on the zany tale of the East German transsexual not only answers these questions but does justice to John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask's cult film sensation.
It would be an impressive feat to depart from this glitzy punk-rock musical without becoming an ally of Hedwig's -- or at least humming the tune "Origin of Love."
The somewhat intimate setting of Live Arts' theatre proves a perfect place to learn the extremely intimate details of Hedwig's (formerly known as Hansel) life. With Hedwig (Peter Markush) as narrator, star and lead singer, the play guides the audience down the bumpy road of a human's past paved with nostalgia, bitterness and desire. Hedwig's saga takes the viewer from the slums of a socialist childhood to the shambles of Midwestern seafood restaurants.
Such a task is a considerable one, and, although Hedwig's band and waif of a husband, Yitzhak (Johanna Clausen), lurk in the background, this is truly a one-woman (or one-man) show.
Markush shoulders this play remarkably. He scintillates as Hedwig, shimmering in sequins, prancing in fishnets and cavorting in a platinum blond wig. Like a vortex of stymied lust, acerbic resentment and seething sexuality, Markush sucks the viewer in with his low voice and high level of passion. As a self-raconteur, he seamlessly transitions from personas, skillfully impersonating characters peopling Hedwig's journey -- from the deep baritone of Luther, a military officer and her ex-husband, to the tinny whine of Tommy, the American adolescent who stole Hedwig's heart and music.
The musical numbers of Hedwig's band, The Angry Inch, range from reveries about sugar daddies to contemplations on wigs. The Angry Inch is comprised of a real-life Charlottesville band, The Falsies, who provide a steady musical accompaniment with their leopard skin boots, spiky hair and morose wardrobe. Yet they remain mere gothic wallpaper to Hedwig and her juggernaut of lust and bitterness toward Tommy Gnosis, her former lover and protégé who reaps the musical fame that she helped him sow.
But like Hedwig's botched sex change operation (hence "the angry inch"), not everything is perfect. The show, which runs about ninety minutes, suffers for the moments that Hedwig flees offstage into the retreat of self-pity or ecstatic euphoria of artistic inspiration. Both Yitzhak, Hedwig's flimsy spouse, and the phantomlike band wither without the star's presence. In essence, the stage fizzles out, its theatrical flame thirsty for the oxygen of its diva.
Given the infinite fertility of Hedwig's imagination, Live Arts creatively coaxes a finite space to its advantage. Two television screens flash glimpses into a whimsical world with childlike illustrations of the myths of Hedwig's mind. When Hedwig opens the stage door and an avalanche of applause sounds for Tommy, the viewer can sense Hedwig's jealous rage.
Hedwig reminisces about her childhood (where she listened to American radio with her head in the oven), adolescence (searching for her "other half") and adulthood (as a discarded immigrant bride) in a manner that merits the "For Mature Audiences" label. The slew of anatomical and sexual references confirms the legitimacy of this caution.
At one point, Hedwig says that she laughs because if she doesn't she'll cry. Markush's skillful delivery of lines -- dictates to Yitzhak to "take a thought shower," naughty puns and allusions to the fall of East Germany ("I deserved a break, and I got an unhappy meal.") -- infuse comedy with the pathos of a creature in search of herself.
In the epic life of Hedwig, the Scylla of a clumsy surgeon and the Charybdis of a cruel lover challenge the heroine, threatening to bring her down. While the viewer must confront the play's occasional peccadilloes (the denouement seems cluttered and klutzy), they are nothing compared to Hedwig's struggles. A true punk-rock odyssey, the journey imparts self-understanding, personal growth and wisdom to its protagonist. And while the viewer may not reach such heights of enlightenment, she or he will empathize with the East German transsexual -- or at the very least understand what that "inch" is and why it is so "angry."
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