I made myself platinum, but I was born a dirty blonde.
With these words, accompanied by a characteristic hip wiggle, Mae West conveys the essence of this show. Even the show's title is a double entendre, referring not only to the legendary actress' hair color, but also to her image as a "good girl gone bad." Audiences who come to this show anticipating a dry chronology of Mae West's life will be pleased to discover much, much more. Mae and her era, which spanned a good part of the 20th century, is only part of the show that actress Claudia Shear designed as a piece for herself. True, Dirty Blonde explores chapters in Mae's life. The main story, however, is about two of Mae's biggest fans. They meet, oddly enough, at her gravesite in 2002. It is Mae's birthday, and both have come to pay their respects.
When the guy, Charlie (Dan Katula), tells the other mourner, Jo, that he actually knew Mae, a rapport is instantly established. They become friends within minutes, chatting happily about this scene and that scene from Mae's movies. Charlie has the upper hand; he has been a Mae West fanatic since high school. Once, he actually went to Mae's hotel and waited -- for days -- before someone took pity on him and introduced him to Mae. The image of an awkward teenager is completely mastered by the talented Katula. As he rubs his crewcut, fidgets, clutches a scrapbook and wonders what to say, we instantly take pity on him.
Jo is also something of a sad soul. An out-of-work actress, she dreams, as Mae once did, of wealth and fame. Charlie, now grown up, is a film historian. He tempts Jo to visit him at the film library with the offer of showing her some rare photos of Mae. Woven throughout this odd friendship/romance are interludes from Mae's life. We learn how Mae became a star, how she segued from vaudeville to films, and why she stayed in the spotlight long after more demure actresses would have quietly slipped from public view.
Dirty Blonde is many things, but it isn't a eulogy. Audiences see her full out, warts and all. She not only acts immoral, she really is immoral. She's also extremely egotistical. During the fast-moving play, the audience is introduced to Mae's husbands, her lovers and her friends, all played by Katula and the equally talented Richard Carsey. Angela Iannone must do double duty, too, as she plays both Jo and Mae. Her physical appearance, tall and reedy, makes Iannone more physically acceptable as Jo. But once inside her platinum wig and rhinestone-studded gown, she is transformed into Mae. She has all the right moves and the right attitude to portray Mae any day of the week (despite the fact she delivers one-liners out of the side of her mouth). Credit for her fabulous gowns, feathered hats and gloves belong to costume designer Ellen Kozak.
Iannone is so extraordinary as Mae that it is a credit to both men that they can hold their own onstage. While Katula is most endearing as the confused, bungling Charlie, he is awfully good when playing an Irish mob boss, or a prizefighter. Carsey, who begins the show on a high note (literally, since he's also the pianist), must change costumes and characters with abandon. His best role is that of a flamboyantly gay man who befriends Mae. He becomes her personal assistant and court jester; in later years, she sets him up with a business. These acts of generosity are what make Mae a sympathetic character, even if her sassy one-liners are what we remember.
