Hedwig and the Angry Inch refuses to age
Melancholy, glam refuse to age in Sage Theatre hit
It might have taken half a decade, but Hedwig is back.
She’s the star, in every sense of the word, of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Sage Theatre’s bigger, better reimagining of one its biggest hits.
The last time Hedwig hit town, in March 2008, Sage presented it, cabaret-style, in the tiny, 60-seat Joyce Doolittle Theatre at the Pumphouse.
This time around, they’ve moved it downtown, to the 140seat Vertigo Studio Theatre, replacing the cabaret with traditional rake seating.
Betty and Critter winning Terry Gunvordahl creates a set that wouldn’t look out of place in the middle of the Saddledome when someone like Kiss comes to town: A gleaming, glittery arena-rock bandstand for Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Joel Crichton on keyboards, Brendan McGuigan on lead guitar, Colleen Brown on bass and Trevor Rueger on drums) to perform on, (although the arena part of the dream is mostly in their imaginations).
There’s also a multimedia screen projecting images and text, giving the whole thing the feeling that it’s taking place in some declining basement club where fringe rockers perform to keep their dream alive.
Adding to Hedwig’s agita is Yitshak (Carly McKee), a longhaired, tatted-up, bearded young dude who also writes songs, serving as a constant reminder to Hedwig that the clock is always running for rockers.
That especially stings, because Geoffrey Ewert’s Hedwig, over half a decade older than when we last saw her, definitely has that aging rocker appeal.
Ewert, dressed in an outfit that’s a cross between Liza Minnelli in Cabaret and Lady Gaga on any given night (wild blond mane and glitter makeup to highlight her blue mascara), gives Hedwig her voice.
It’s an ironic, lightly German-accented blend of Lou Reed, a little bit of old ’70s David Bowie, some Mott the Hoople — and a little bit of Chelsea Handler thrown in there, between songs when Hedwig breaks into her tragicomic personal history.
That’s where we hear how Hedwig grew up in East Berlin, raised by a single mom in an apartment so small she carved sculptures in the shower.
On a visit to the Wall, where she fantasizes about escape to the west, Hedwig makes the acquaintance of an American soldier, Luther, who eventually becomes her husband, helping her escape East Germany to Kansas.
In between, there’s the small issue of a sex change operation, which goes awry, leaving Hedwig trapped somewhere between he and she in a mobile home in rural Kansas, where Luther abandons her.
But Hedwig is nothing if not relentless, and soon finds herself in New York, getting high in a limo with rocker Tommy Gnosis.
Through it all, in a hit-and-miss monologue and song, Hedwig takes all the lemons life has dealt — the botched surgery, the abandoning dad, having her songs stolen by Tommy Gnosis (who that very night is playing the Saddledome) — and turns them in glamrocker anthems, such as Wig In a Box, Midnight Radio and Wicked Little Town that would hold up nicely as glam-rocker anthems even if there wasn’t a narrative connecting them to one another (Although the sound mix opening night was a little lopsided in favour of the instrumentation).
Ewert might be an older Hedwig than when he played the role in 2008, but I like what the extra half decade adds to his performance.
There’s an extra six degrees of melancholy, or maybe it’s resignation, to Hedwig, which bathes the show in an added layer of selfawareness.
Dreams of stardom have come and gone. Tommy Gnosis stole her songs. Her schtick is wearing a little thin, and the outrageous costume and wig look a little threadbare.
All Hedwig has left are these songs, this concert, tonight, and Ewert makes sure you feel as if you get every ounce of life that Hedwig has to give.