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Tuesday, November 14, 2000 By JOE ADCOCK SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER THEATER CRITIC At times, "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" is exciting and raucous rock 'n'd roll. At other times the show is moving and troubling. THEATER REVIEW HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH PLAYWRIGHT: John Cameron Mitchell In the title role, Nick Garrison can be very funny and very poignant. He can be a wild combination of Mick Jagger and Tina Turner, David Bowie and Madonna. He also can be a contemplative combination of Plato and Marlene Dietrich, Kierkegaard and Judy Garland. He can be spiteful and flippant. He can be vulnerable and heartbreaking. "Hedwig," playing at Re-bar, is a unique combination of escapist pop entertainment and existentialist rock opera. The two-hour, no-intermission show has its empty moments. But mostly it is bursting with vitality. I found it extremely entertaining and extremely moving. Here's the deal: Hansel and his mother live in East Berlin. An American soldier falls in love (or in lust or in something) with Hansel. The soldier wants to bring Hansel home with him. This can only be done if they are married. So Hansel becomes Hedwig. However, Hedwig's incompetently accomplished sex-change operation leaves her with an "angry inch." Abandoned in a Kansas trailer park by her husband of one year, Hedwig works at low-pay jobs. Sometimes she sings in a coffee bar. Sometimes she baby-sits. One of her charges is a 17-year-old boy, Tommy. Hedwig seduces Tommy, sexually and spiritually. She turns him into a rocker. He backs her up on stage. Their career takes off. Tommy dumps Hedwig and soars into a solo career. Now each and every inch of Hedwig is angry. But she remains hopeful. During a tour of Croatia she takes up with a local drag queen, Yitzhak, who becomes her new backup singer. Hedwig's band is called, of course, The Angry Inch. So it is Hedwig and Yitzhak and The Angry Inch that we are presumably watching on stage at Re-bar. From time to time Hedwig opens a door and we hear the perfidious Tommy, working an adoring crowd into a frenzy. He is allegedly performing at the Paramount. Director Mark Gallagher has recruited an extremely lively and versatile four-member band, led by Jill Wainsguard, to represent The Angry Inch. The combo rips through a diverse score that includes elements of glam rock, country, rhythm and blues, punk, pop and metal. Garrison and Sarah Rudinoff, as Yitzhak, do themselves proud in every vocal genre. Choreography by Wade Madsen has an edge of barely controlled savagery. Lighting by David Vercade enhances the wildness, no where more so than during the frenzy of rage and despair that explodes in Hedwig's sex-change song. Various shades of red hit Hedwig from below, behind, above and in front. Director Gallagher has an uncanny way of shading coarseness into delicacy, cynicism into idealism, stupidity into intelligence, meanness into tenderness, hostility into sympathy, callousness into sensitivity and alienation into communion. It is all possible because Garrison has the dramatic and musical chops to make it happen. Hedwig" developed over a period of years in off-off-Broadway venues. When it opened in February 1998 at the Jane Street Theatre in lower Manhattan, "Hedwig" became a cult hit. The key word here is cult. "Hedwig" might offend or bewilder folks who consider themselves to be normal. But for those with a broad-band appreciation for tragical farce, farcical tragedy and all sorts of lifestyles and musical genres, "Hedwig" offers unique satisfactions. Re-bar may become home to Seattle's branch of an intense and lively cult. |
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