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Dale

Part Doris Day gee-whiz, part Robert Cole tremolo, Meg Mackay and Billy Philadelphia have an iron clad act. It’s the classic approach of comedy that permits an entertainer to be ironic, self-effacing, parodic, judgmental and beloved at the same time. They inspire confidence that everything will come out right.

Cole Porter is the patron saint of such performers. Mackay sings, “I Hate Men,” and “My Heart Belongs to Daddy.” Philadelphia sings, “The Tale of the Oyster.” Porter tunes pop up more than once in “Medley Shmedley,” an arrangement of alternative lyric snippets.

Outside of this the song selection veers toward the obscure. If it weren’t for Bernadette Peter’s live album in 2003, which of us would recall “Making Love Alone,” as anything other than an early Saturday Night Live skit?

“Another Song About Paris,” is a clever number influenced by Harold Arlen. The only song specifically written for the show, “Fast Quasi French Song,” dovetails nicely though it’s observations are dated to that time when Edith Piaf was still performing.

For comedy there are Mel Brooks and Tom Lehrer songs. For ballast there are Kander and Ebb and Stephen Sondheim numbers. A good selection.

Mackay immediately offers herself as a Midwesterner. She smiles wide-eyed and swallows her consonants. Her voice is measured. She’s not going to wear herself out. Still she can punch at the end of a long run and hold a note for show.

Mackay’s stagebreaks are easygoing. In them, little is made of the contrast between her birthplace and Philadelphia’s which suggests future business for the show. The both seem representative of their birthplaces. Cut out a song or two and there is room to play with some quick stand-up exchanges for character.

"Nutmeg" continues at New Conservatory Theater 8pm Wednesday through Saturday and 2pm Sunday until August 22nd.

L to R: Raya Light signs her afterlife away on Faux King Awesome's back. Hugz Bunny finds it's easier to smile at work when you have a big hole in your cheek.

The Bridge Theater obliged everyone to sign liability forms at last Saturday's screening of Evil Dead 2. In the cue to enter the theater, many attendees appeared pre-injured, blood dripping from their faces, skin torn off.

If there were an accident during the execution of the pre-screening roller derby, who would be able to tell?

Peaches Christ sang the original song, "Let's Get Undead," by Ric Ray to start the festivities. Kegel Kater, L Ron Hubby, Cousin Wonderlette, and Ray performed an accompanying dance wherein Lady Bear was devoured in their collective zombie hunger. In the final bars of the song, she disappeared in a flight of glittering red fabric scraps shot out from the hands of the four dancers.


Peaches Christ with zombie cheerleaders and Bridge employees about the release balls into the audience.

The highlight of the evening, billed bigger than the Evil Dead 2 title, was Zombie Drag Queen Roller Derby. Three teams - The Spawn of Skatin', The Booty Callers, and The Zombie-Sluts of Roller-Town - competed.

The first round was a fairly innocent race. Every member of the team ran one length of the theater and then tagged her teammate. An official time was kept. In this the Booty Callers were far and away fastest by nearly four seconds over the runner-up team.

For the second round, two large balls were released. The audience attempted to keep the balls away from the skaters. Each captured ball was worth a point. The Booty Callers and Spawn of Skatin' each won a point in this round.


above: members of the Booty Callers and Spawn of Skatin'.

Christ gave the final round a long preface. In an early interation of the "Wig Snatching Round," Squeaky Blonde had her scalp nearly pulled off (she'd glued her wig down) hence the liability forms.

Skaters raced in an effort to reassemble their teams, wig intact, on the other side of the theater. Underneath the projection booth, the three teams piled up in a frenzy of kneepads. Knees, skates, wrenched shoulders and naked heads were all anyone could see, until time was called and the conquests were counted.

Though the Zombie-Sluts of Roller-Town made a strong pitch to catch up, the dominance of The Booty Callers won the day.


L to R: Anjie Myma rolls to the opposite side of the theater wig intact. The Booty Callers fight for a hairy prize in the third round of the roller derby.

Midnight Mass last presented Evil Dead 2 in 2001, though Christ brought star Bruce Campbell to town as recently as December for a special screening of "My Name Is Bruce," a parodic kiss off to his B-movie career.

Director Sam Rami (of Spiderman fame) may be credited with innovating the time-lapse dolly and rack-focus shots that have become horror staples. Campbell, however, is the loveable subject of our interest with a chin two sizes too long at his most slapstick entertaining in Evil Dead 2.

Campbell never stops fighting for his life though the difference between the living and the dead is never apparent in this series.

The Dead seem to be "evil" simply because they would make the living "dead." The Dead don't desire to live, they do live. Not only are they animate, they possess super powers and commit unprosecutable acts of bad behavior. Who wouldn't want to be dead? What's more, they aren't elitists. They want the living to join them!

The contrast between the living and the dead indicates only dissatisfaction with any kind of consent-negating activity. The living don't consent to be dead. The Dead are disrespectful.Accidents, bad luck, disasters, and aggressive behavior are the villains of these films. A tremendous psychological frame for the rubber joints and desperate laughter of Campbell.


L to R: Kegel Kater puckers up. L Ron Hubby drinks his reanimation fluid.

Throughout the film, many gay men in attendance vocally expressed their adoration of Campbell. There aren't many straight men who make for healthy gay icons, but Campbell can be said to be one.

His vaudevillian expressions mix with an endless, resilliant vulnerability. His acceptance of this suffocation over time as both a weapon and an identity prefigures the post-911 New Depression queer. "Where do we go from here," is a question of what adventure will next catapult us through time and space or else leave us bloody and laughing on a dark night in a room alone.

This Friday and Saturday, Midnight Mass screens "Showgirls." Tickets can be secured here.

If you've been to a party recently, you know Domonique.

She's a physically imposing woman, tall and generously proportioned, with a mane of ropey auburn hair.

She wears boots, tight dresses, viciously torn stockings; any look that accentuates her tits or her ass.

It's called marketing.


Clockwise from upper left: No-Pants party; a clamor for drinks in the red room at Supperclub. Yours Truly and Domonique Echeverria. DJs spinning in the bed room.

Presently, she's collaborating with promoters at Infatuation (Wednesdays at Vessel) and Blow Up (Fridays at Rickshaw Stop). Her own parties, play pageant Miss Honey, Vamp Tramp at Beauty Bar, and I Like Fun at Triple Crown are getting great reviews.

With other promoters, most notably Parker Day, abruptly retiring from the scene, Domonique accepted the opportunity to come into her own. "I turned 21 and I'm just getting started."

Why not throw herself into fashion too? A something-to-prove girl with a strong personal style, visualizing an assemblage of pieces would seem an intuitive processs for Domonique. She has a covey of nightlifer friends willing to model for her.  The recent institution of the photo booth at parties gives everyone a reason to want to look distinctive.

This thought process brought me to the No-Pants Party at Supperclub, a servicable space on Harrison between second and third. It's first room is lined with quilted red leather wall paneling. It's inner sanctum features a theatrical bar/dance floor lined with two levels of white, sheetless beds. Attendees can watch the goings on sprawled out with a satisfying feeling of public intimacy.

Kimi Recor from Lilofee sang two original gothic love songs to accompany the show.

Domonique is responsible for many of Recor's provocative costumes, which typically involve a latex body suit.

Thursday's ensemble adhered to this formula, with a bustier top. Recor also wore a ginko leaf fin upon which driftwood and a stuffed bird were charmingly, if awkwardly stuck.

I told Recor, "The bird really makes it." "He's my little friend!" she responded.

A more successful variation on shoulder-dressing came in a pair of bullfighting influenced black epaulettes worn like an oversized black tie.

Further military parody came in the form of two shredded mails, one a black pleather, one bright green with a matching headdress, theoretically providing cammoflage.


Clockwise from upper left: Massive epaulettes. Cammoflage/Recor/red headscarf. A shredded romper with structured cups, typical of Domonique's style. A pair of gloves.

The highlight of the show was a pair a costume jewel encrusted opera gloves, which looked paradoxically defensive as an oyster's nacre and as parasitic as mollusks attached to a hull.

Another notable item, a red headscarf, was cued from Michael Jackson's habit of covering the heads of his children in a vision restricting manner. When Jackson's children were led publicly in these dressings, they appeared to be featured guests at an execution. As fashion, it looked mysterious rather than panic induced.

Domonique's next party is this Friday's Blow Up featuring Lilofee and Hot Tub. She will show her fashion again on August 16th as part of Infatuation.

ONGOING EVENTS

"Connie Champagne Sings Songs To Make You Gay"New Conservatory Theater, Van Ness and Oak, Wednesday - Saturday 8pm, $20-28
Twenty years ago, Champagne began scavenging rock songs for cabaret.  It's special to hear her deliver a glitter rock ballad knowing she inspired the lounge singers depicted in ABC's dystopian "Lone Palms," in Sophia Coppola's "Lost in Translation," which made the practice as conventional as "American Idol."  Trauma Flintstone performs numbers during costume changes. The "love that dare not speak it's name," has no difficulty with a libretto. Runs through August 1. My review is here.

Friday

If I pop in someplace tonight it will be "Charles Equestrian," but it's almost seven and I'm already in my pjs.

Charlie Horse presents
"Charles Equestrian" at the Cinch, 11pm, free.
Doorman Dean Disaster hosts what will be a monthly 11pm Drag and Faux King revue before the ladies of Charlie Horse do their thing at midnight.

also Friday

- "Pearls over Shanghai," rock out with the Cockettes at the Hypnodrome through August.
- Tattoo at the Stud moves to Friday nights. Christian Owen Djs. Kink.com is new co-sponsor.

Saturday

Midnight Mass featuring "Evil Dead 2," The Bridge Theater, Geary and Blake, midnight, $13.
Before the "Spiderman" movies and "Drag Me To Hell," there was this beauty. The pre-show is the last ever Zombie Drag Queen Roller Derby with a who's who of SF nightlifers. All attendees will have to sign a release of liability - no joke!

also Saturday

- Patrick Vigil hosts "Disco to Disco," a new party at Anu, 6th and Market, free before 11pm, $5 after.
-French Kiss returns with a new look. Le Freak DJs. At Vessel, Stockton and Camden Place, free.

Sunday

I will be attending a private party before the fair.

Up Your Alley Fair, Dore Alley, 11am to 5pm, $5 suggested donation.
Street Fair season officially begins when the leather community lets it all hang out (literally) along Dore Alley. Citizen complaints will probably tame the public action down a bit, but to be sure there will be plenty of heart rate elevating tableaux.

also Sunday

-Hnysndsystm's "Honey Sundays," Paradise Lounge, 11th , 8pm - 2 am, free

The Week Ahead

- 1.98 Beauty Pageant at Chaser Tuesday.
- Audio Havoc at Temple Tuesday.
- Sarah Delush's Birthday at Underground SF Wednesday.

SPECIAL THANKS

To readers who supported me and members of my AIDS Walk team. We raised a total of $3092 for AIDS Housing Alliance. Check out the pics here.

Cabaret is easy to review. Did you hear your favorite songs? Were you exposed to something new? Did the singer and the accompanist hit all their notes?

Connie Champagne, however, is not the kind of cabaret singer who does things the easy way. She excels in Victor/Victoria faux queen confusion.

Sometimes she impersonates Judy Garland. First polite sober then quavering drunk Judy Garland. Then she impersonates Patty Duke impersonating Judy Garland. Sometimes she does all this at once in the same song ("Somewhere Over The Rainbow," "Mad About the Boy.")

Also, when Champagne discards her Julie London songbook and begins mining rock songs for cabaret you're reminded that she legitimized the practice.

What seemed strange almost twenty years ago on ABC's "Wild Palms," was re-cheezed by 2003s "Lost in Translation"  (with an assist from SNL lounge lizard Bill Murray) and redeemed by last years Tony nomination for Champagne contemporaries Justin Bond and Kenny Melman. Champagne has casually owned the emotional spectrum of this behavior for two decades.

"Connie Champagne Sings Songs To Make You Gay" at New Conservatory Theater is likable in all the ways cabaret wants to be liked.

I heard "Lady Stardust," as part of a Bowie medley. The two "Maria's (from  "West Side Story" and "Sound of Music") were twisted into a lesbi-friendly nun's lament. "Hot Stuff," and "I Will Survive," made their obligatory appearance in the disco tribute portion of the show.

Accompanist Trauma Flintstone busted out "Lesbian Love Story," during a stage break. Both he and Champagne hit all their notes, dueting for the You Tube notorious "Turning On." All measures were favorable.

So, here is a broader consideration for cabaret shows which it's slightly unfair to insert into this review: Why stage them in a theater at all if you are unable to advantage yourself over the environment?

Solo performance is guilty of skimping on scenery. Yes, Minimalism has a way of focusing on the quality of the entertainment blah-blah-blah, but in a gold-sequins or spaghetti straps, your specimen cabaret entertainer is not going for the unnoticed look.

Tom Orr's "I Feel A Thong Coming On," last fall made comic use of an onstage wardrobe and a changing screen that dramatized space and structured action. Those were organic, minimalist properties that enhanced, rather than detracted from, the performance.

At one point, Champagne handed a basket of cookies into the audience. That's a little too familiar. I'd much rather see the cookie money turned into a piece of non-edible scenery during the run.

Of course, I'm grateful for the cookie!

"Songs To Make You Gay," runs Wednesday through Sunday until August 1. Tickets are available here.