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Well friends, whether by design or by chance, four of the eight (yes, eight!) Fringe shows I have had the fortune (and misfortune) to witness over the last ten days have been either Gay themed or at least Gay friendly! So, I have decided that it is appropriate to review them all together, sort of like a mini Gay Fringe Festival, and has nothing at all to do with my trying to make this all a bit more manageable! (No comments from the peanut gallery, please.)
If I were to judge the Festival on the merits of these four productions alone, I must admit that it would be crowned an unqualified success since three of the four were very good, at times excellent, and only one a tragic disappointment. Three out of four ain’t bad, kids! And we’re off…
The very best of the bunch was a tremendously heartfelt, touching and polished tribute to Gay activist/politician/pioneer Harvey Milk (Dear Harvey). Much has been said in the years since his untimely death (along with San Francisco Mayor George Moscone) at the hands of assassin Dan White; a marvelous book (The Mayor of Castro Street), an Academy Award winning documentary (The Times of Harvey Milk) and an Academy Award winning biographical 
film (Milk). This stage play takes somewhat the same bent as the The Laramie Project, by weaving real interviews and/or literary quotes from people who actually knew, worked with, admired (or not) and loved Harvey Milk. An incredibly talented and versatile cast of seven take on the various personas (including Mr. Milk) with profoundly affecting and impressive results. It is difficult to single any one of them out, as they were uniformly excellent across the board. This is due in no small part I’m sure, to skilled director Dan Kirsch, who makes ample and creative use of the limited space (aided enormously by Jeff Fightmaster’s lovely and evocative lighting design) and to the marvelous, intelligent and intricately woven script by Patricia Loughrey. There is also a simple and nearly perfect musical score by Thomas Hodges, who gets his own poignant moment toward the end of the proceedings. In my mind, with just the slightest nips, tucks and pulls, this work has, much like the man it portrays, an important journey ahead with stories that demand to be heard.
Next up (yes, we are forging ahead in order of preference) an enchanting and ultimately moving one man show, Miss Magnolia Beaumont Goes to Provincetown, written and performed by the engaging and completely charming Joe Hutcheson. While traveling via train to the aforementioned locale to celebrate his birthday, Joe becomes gradually aware that 
the spirit (ghost? angel?) of a pre-Civil War debutante has somehow taken up residence in his body. At turns frightened, confused, angered and amused by this odd turn of events, the two begin a delightfully entertaining, artful and convincing dialog as they are forced to examine, accept and learn from their extreme differences. Mr. Hutcheson is admirably adept at switching back and forth between the main personalities and a host of other (often hilarious) characters that are encountered over the course of one eye-opening holiday. Managing to steer clear (just) of certain clichéd portrayals of the often difficult navigations of homosexuals in our society, the show lays bare the common denominator, the basic humanity that we all share if we only take the time to examine, acknowledge and embrace it. Perhaps a bit too long getting to its eventual resolution and lesson, it is never boring and most certainly an arresting showcase for the many talents (he has a wonderful singing voice, too!) of its impassioned creator.
Admittedly, I wasn’t sure what to expect of our next entry, Friends of Dorothy: An Oz Cabaret. Being a ridiculously obsessive Oz fan myself, I tend to be rather particular in regard to any sort of tribute or parody. What I did not imagine, as the advertising was a bit obscure, is that this was to be a full out burlesque show (nudity and all, at noon on a Sunday no less!) with the classic film/story as its jumping off point. While this could obviously have been a recipe for disaster (like
a tornado blowing into town or getting flushed down the toilet at Starbucks, where our heroine Dorothy is employed) the incredibly impressive movement talents of the cast put all fears to rest. Landing in the Land of Bras, our girl is given a Minsky’s/Cirque du Soleil worthy stream of advice and absolutely fabulous and variant numbers by the sexy inhabitants of this decidedly different Oz. Incorporating stripping, gymnastics, aerial wonders and endlessly gorgeous, glittery and (above all) removably functional garments, this clever twist on a well known tale moved at a clipped and highly enjoyable pace. While the script and the less than stellar acting talents of the performers left much to be desired, it didn’t really matter in the final analysis, as their individual dancing and physical strengths were the real heart of the show. Standouts were the amazing Veruca Honeyscotch as a member of the infamous Lullaby League whose curtain climbing ballet was in a remarkable class all its own, and the marvelous, well-known drag performer Bianca Del Rio, who was hysterically funny and devastatingly divine as the Wicked Bitch of the West, whose reign of terror is brought down by a hilarious application of makeup remover. And surely the pinnacle of Gay delirium was reached as tight bodied Go-Go Harder shimmied his way out of his Twinkie Winkie costume to the delicious strains of our girl Barbra’s rendition of “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.” Did a twister just whisk me off to Gay heaven?!
Last and most certainly least, the maddeningly disappointing Interfaith Understanding with the Rev. Bill & Betty. Such a letdown as it sounded fun and promising in design. A Christian television program (think Jim and Tammy on crack) whose twisting and turning of every other religions' beliefs, holidays and lingos are meant to reflect upon the truly appalling real life broadcasts that do, well, much of the same. However, the script, which is at moments howlingly
funny, mostly pours it on way too thick and often with a distinct lack of the cleverness required to pull this sort of thing off. At some point so much borderline amusing offensiveness just becomes, well, offensive. Jen Ryan as Betty was right on mark and frankly pretty darn entertaining even with the obstacles she was facing. Her partner in this crime, Rik Sansone as the Rev. Bill, started out all high energy and confidence, but at some point (early on perhaps due to a seemingly small and inconsequential technical glitch) seemed to completely lose track of the proceedings, flubbing lines endlessly and losing the bravado he had first brought onto the stage. Generally, the whole production seemed criminally under-rehearsed and sluggish. The definite highlight of the show were the sometimes gut-bustingly hilarious commercials that played on an upstage TV set promoting such products as the breakfast meal for, um, difficult women called C**tflakes! I would have rather been treated to an hour of these far more ingenious clips. Now, time for a bowl of cereal!
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