So many mini-genres are crowding New York theater right now—magic shows, angry British lower-class dramas, explorations of Jewish and/or gay identity—it's rare to come across a piece that's absolutely, uncategorizably new and different. When that show is also good, we're almost tempted to overpraise it. Back in February 1998, I took that risk with Hedwig and the Angry Inch, John Cameron Mitchell's fascinating, sometimes terrific mix of rock and roll cabaret act, performance art piece and cross-dressing spoof. It was hard to tell then whether I was just so happy to hear real rock and roll in a theater (not that ersatz Rent and Footloose stuff), I gave author Mitchell and the band Cheater too much credit; or if Mitchell's audacious performance, wisecracks and all, was worth more than a one-time happy surprise.
A return to Hedwig one year later shows the book to be as funny as before, and the music still strong enough to compete with classics like "Lust For Life" and "Heroes" played on the sound system before and after the show. The slovenly rock band takes the stage, soon joined by lead singer Hedwig, a stiletto-heeled, overly made up, frowsy chanteuse who chain smokes and talks with rasping regret of a life lived fully but badly. A gay man, Hedwig was able to escape poverty and leave occupied East Germany only through a sex change operation to marry an American G.I. Alas, the surgeon's knife that was supposed to change his gender slipped, leaving the poor girly-boy with a one-inch mound between his legs -- hence the musical's title.
With hilarious slides as counterpoint, Hedwig continues her story, including hooking up with a novice songwriter whose career eventually eclipsed the man-woman who created him. Cathartic (and loud) as it is, the ending of all this still baffles a bit, but plot isn't the point. Mitchell created an original rock musical performance that was one of the most oddly memorable, and pleasurable, experiences of the previous season. Having seen both John Cameron Mitchell and Michael Cerveris in the show has made it clear that Hedwig is now a role to be played, rather than a seemingly spontaneous creation by Mitchell. (Ally Sheedy took the part in early fall 1999.)
Hedwig takes his time building audience rapport via those wonderfully vile one-liners ("I just love a warm hand on my opening") and convinces us that his feud with "husband" Yitzhak over wearing a wig really is a matter of life and heartbreak. Wisely, the musical still plays downtown at the Jane Street Theater, which the producers renovated but intentionally kept old-world shabby. Atlantic Records released the CD in February 1999 -- and it's the only cast recording of the past two years that I listen to regularly and for sheer enjoyment.
