Some people didn’t know what they were getting into: Priscilla Queen of the Desert

Some people return from New York City and promptly attend a touring production of Priscilla:  Queen of the Desert.  People like me.

According to me, I’ve had a very mixed experience with subscribing to the Pantages this season.  There was the fantastically funny Book of Mormon, the dreadful Jekyll & Hyde, the mixed bag that is Catch Me If You Can, the uncharming Beauty & the Beast, and now we have a bunch of drag queens lip syncing to pop hits of yesteryear.

Which, short of a book of mormon shoved up a young man’s ass, is the best thing they’ve had all season.

It is very possible that some members of the audience had no idea what they were getting into and were observed leaving the theatre very early in the performance.  Before the ping pong balls.  Either they weren’t comfortable with drag queens or with the idea of drag queens having children.  That could be icky to two different sets of people…

I saw Priscilla Queen of the Desert so many years ago on VHS.  I don’t really remember much of what happened, but I do remember it ended with ABBA even though this was before I knew what ABBA was.  (I guess I’m a late bloomer).  ANYHOW.  I can’t repeat this enough.  This is a show with men in dresses.  I’m pretty sure that there’s a man who impersonates Tina Turner and so of course what I want to talk about next is costumes. There were many elaborate costumes and the changes and quick changes and drag queens are all about the fancy get ups.

Priscilla is a very very very fun … gay … romp.  The singing isn’t great and the plot … wait there was a plot and a tender moment but what I really liked was the campy drag queens frolicking about.  But darlings … if you go and don’t enjoy yourself, you’re either sober, constipated or beyond my help.

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