Review: Drag Artist Kiki Ball-Change Insists on Fun With New Show at Joe's Pub

At her cabaret outing at Joe’s Pub, Kiki arrived not simply as a hostess but as a full-scale remedy. The evening opened with a hilarious old-timey black-and-white commercial in which she hawked a product called “Fun,” pitching it with the immortal slogan, “Are you looking for a change? How about a Kiki Ball-Change.” It landed exactly as it should: silly, sharp, knowingly absurd. Then, in a visual gag straight out of The Wizard of Oz, the world bloomed from black and white into Technicolor, and off we went, with no interest whatsoever in looking back.

Selling “Fun!” as a cure for “boredom, heartbreak and heterosexuality” is the sort of line that tells you immediately whether you are in good hands. Happily, we were in manicured, sequined, orange-tinted ones. In a sparkly knee-length cocktail dress, fitted within an inch of its life, and a matching bouffant so fabulous it deserved its own billing, Kiki looked like a ripe tangerine with a microphone and a grievance. Delicious, dangerous, and not remotely interested in blending in. And dare I say, juicy!

Her opening number, the title tune “Are You Having Any Fun?”, grabbed the audience by the collective privates and refused to let go. Kiki knows the classic architecture of cabaret and delivers the goods: the glamour, the rim-shot banter, the wink that curdles into a growl and then melts into warmth. Yet what distinguishes her is not simply her command of the form, but the particular flavor of her self-deprecation. She does not stand above the joke. She throws herself onto the altar of it, heels first.

One especially deft sequence found Kiki recounting her college days as a self-professed hussy before sliding seamlessly into “Everybody’s Girl.” It was smart programming and even smarter pacing. After the comic setup, the number let her voice open up and bloom. Moving into a ballad at precisely that moment gave the show shape and breath. Beneath the lacquer and punch lines, Kiki can sing. That matters. Camp without craft is just noise in a wig. Kiki has the goods.

Credit, too, to her musical trio, who supplied the evening with style, snap, and exactly the right degree of conspiratorial support. Cabaret lives or dies on the chemistry between singer and players, and this team knew when to punch a joke, when to caress a phrase, and when to let Kiki drive the whole sparkling clown car straight into the wall for comic effect.

Among the guest appearances, the standout was Ashley Atkinson, delightful and game, whose duet with Kiki on Godspell’s “All For the Best” was a comic treat. The height difference alone was worth the price of admission, milked for every delicious inch of sight gag available. Atkinson, who audiences may know from The Gilded Age, proved a perfect foil, especially when she confessed how sad she feels arriving on set to find “Christine Baranski isn’t on the call sheet.”

Then came one of the evening’s most winning pleasures: the loose, casual-seeming anarchy that cabaret does best when it is done well. A rendition of “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” of all things, began as a ballad and spiraled into hilarious audience participation, all of it wearing the divine illusion of spontaneity. “This just happened” is one of the hardest effects to pull off in live performance, and one of the most seductive. Kiki makes it look gloriously easy.

The finale, set to the tune of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy,” arrived complete with backup girls and hilariously camp lyrics, sending the evening out on a bright, brassy high. It was the perfect choice: old-school, silly, sharply tailored to her persona. Best of all, once the number ended, Kiki simply walked offstage with a brisk “Bye everyone.” No grand flourish. No false modesty. No laborious soaking in applause. Just goodnight and good luck, in platforms. It was perfectly, unapologetically in character.

But this queen was not done pouring.

For the encore, Kiki sauntered back, slurped her cocktail, and asked, “Alright, y’all want one more?” Of course they did. She launched into her self-proclaimed standard, a riff on “Taylor the Latte Boy.” And Kiki, being Kiki, turned it into “Taylor the Grindr Boy,” with the lyrics gleefully steered into gay, gay, gay territory. “Send me d**k pics. Send me joy.” “God I hope you don’t give me gonorrhea.” Vulgar, ridiculous, somehow almost sweet. That is the Kiki Ball-Change brand.

And really, that says it all.

A night with Kiki Ball-Change is raw, hilarious, a little poignant, and cheerfully unhouse broken. She gives you camp with a kick, innuendo with intelligence, and just enough emotional truth to make the sequins sting. She leaves you laughing, slightly moved, and vaguely concerned about what exactly you may have picked up by evening’s end. Let me assure you: whatever it is, it was worth catching.

Photo credit: John Lagucki

Learn more at kikiballchange.com