Dame Edna: Back With a Vengeance!: Bringing Low Comedy to Greater Heights

I shall now attempt to review Dame Edna: Back With a Vengeance without even once using the word "possums". It's not as easy as one might think.

Actually, before we begin, does anyone know for sure which pronoun you're supposed to use when writing about a female impersonator? (I'll decline using the artsy term "gender illusionist" because really, there's no attempt to create an illusion here.) Some documented rules by an authorized grammarian would be appreciated. Till then I'll just wing it.

I must tell you right from the start (or at least from the third paragraph) that until seeing his new Broadway show, I was a complete Dame Edna virgin. I actually had no idea that Barry Humphries had a career after playing Mr. Sowerberry in Oliver! back in '63.

So for the benefit of those who already know and love Dame Edna, I'll just let you know that, yes, she does exactly what you expect from her. Judging from audience response and her own admission that this production will be "exactly the same as my last show, only new", you will not be disappointed. This isn't like when Woody Allen came out with Interiors or when Sinead O'Conner released that album full of showtunes. In fact, I'm sure you already have tickets to several performances so stop wasting your time reading this review and rest comfortably knowing that Dame Edna has not changed what works.

Okay, for the rest of you who, like me, are new to this. Rule #1: For the love of all that is holy, when you go see Dame Edna please check your mind at the door. You will have little use for it for the next two hours. Rule #2: If someone asks if you're a friend of Kenny, substitute the name "Dorothy" for "Kenny" and answer appropriately. Rule #3: Wave that glad. (I'll explain this one later.)

What we've got at The Music Box Theatre is a fun mixture of low burlesque (music hall, if you will) and high camp. Barry Humphries, who my Australian friend tells me is such a beloved icon down there that if I write one nasty word against him a dozen rugby players will hunt me down and pummel me, is a female impersonator of the same ilk as Milton Berle. He's that crazy uncle who puts on a dress and sings and dances in an absurdly high-pitched voice. There's no feminine mystique about him. It's more like cross-gender family fun.

The evening that showcases the self-proclaimed most admired woman in the world is a rollicking mixture of song, dance and comedy fused together with all the sincerity and good taste of a 1960's Vegas floor show. Decked out in a dazzlingly short, silvery flapper dress that makes her look like the sibling Carol Channing doesn't talk about (That's her Act I outfit. I can't begin to describe what she wears in Act II except to say the fabulous tackiness is by Will Goodwin and Stephen Adnitt.) Dame Edna sings charming little ditties co-authored by Mr. Humphries (lyrics) and the on-stage "Master of the Dame's Musick", Wayne Barker (music and lyrics). (Incidentally, I curse the name of Wayne Barker until his infectiously catchy disco melody for the show's title tune leaves my head.) Backing her up are The Gorgeous Ednaettes (Teri DiGianfelice and Michelle Pampena) and the Equally Gorgeous TestEdnarones (Randy Aaron and Gerrard Carter) who gleefully sing and dance Jason Gilkison's kitschy choreography.

But the main attraction of Dame Edna: Back With a Vengeance is of course the audience abuse. No, wait... I take that back. As the great one explains, she does not abuse her audience. She empowers them. Although there is prepared material (written by Humphries with additional material by Andrew Ross and Robert Horn) the unpredictability of audience responses guarantees each performance will have a spontaneous, off-the-cuff feel. When a kindly looking lady tells her she lives in a very large home, the Dame replies, "So that must be why you economize with your wardrobe." When an audience member gives Edna one of her shoes (don't ask) the great one ponders, "To think the manufacturer had the affinity to make two of these."

In Act II she heaps on more tough love by bringing up a pair for a bit of couples therapy, including the obligatory phone call to a unsuspecting relative. A staged reading from her autobiographical play performed by audience stooges provides more opportunities for multiple abuse. (Oops, I mean empowerment.)

She also talks a bit about her son Kenny, who is a practicing homeopath, and is always delighted to see how many friends of Kenny are in her audience each night. I think you know where that one's going.

Oh yes, then there's the gladiolas. Apparently, the Dame's signature finale routine is to pass hundreds of gladiola stalks among her fans; gingerly at first, but soon she's hurling them into the balcony with the same furious velocity as if she were Roger Clemens and someone told her Mike Piazza was sitting in the cheap seats. What follows is something the likes of which I've never seen on or off or even off-off Broadway; an auditorium full of adults waving their stalks rhythmically in the air as the Dame leads them in a sing-a-long of the catchy and slightly naughty tune "Wave That Glad". I'm not making this up.

I suppose there's a bit of masochistic pleasure in being a Dame Edna fan. Not since Don Rickles have I seen a performer so expert in insults that sting, but never injure. Probably because Dame Edna herself is such an uproariously absurd figure that an insult from someone whose own personal style is so questionable probably means you're doing pretty well for yourself. Everything is clearly meant in good, good fun, because in the end we are all her little possums.

Damn. So close.

Photos by David Allen

For more information visit dameednaonbroadway.com

For more from Michael Dale visit dry2olives.com

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