Luca McPhee and Jessie James in “Hedwig and the Angry Inch”, Photo by Taylor Long
Violent splitting and the resulting agonized divisions—these form the aching core of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, the one-act rock musical by Stephen Trask (music and lyrics) and John Cameron Mitchell (book). A modern queer classic, Bowtie Productions‘ intimate staging at Theatre Passe Muraille is my first in-person experience of it. Though I’m very fond of the film, its original and proper form is so much more urgent, with Hedwig (Jessie James/Petrasiunas) taking up physical space amongst us, a fabulous embodiment of sad and angry spectacle.
Through song, Hedwig leads us through the whole sordid affair that is her life—from late childhood yearnings in East Berlin and a botched sex change (the “angry inch” is an amorphous mound of healed flesh) to her struggles to find love and stardom in America as an “internationally ignored song stylist.” While her former lover and protégé—the more successful Tommy Gnosis, whose identity is an intriguing late reveal—plays to a nearby packed concert hall, the sound and light blasting through whenever the door opens, Hedwig and her small band give us some absolute bangers that pull us into her psyche.
Mitchell and Trask’s material is both whimsical and raw, introducing their thematic fixation on bisections, fluctuating gender and abject longing early on with “The Origin of Love.” The song riffs on a Greek myth where early humans are doubled creatures—man-man, woman-woman, man-woman—split by a fearful Zeus, compelled to wander the earth forever in search of their other half. In his projections, designer Alex Grozdanis, provides charming, sketchy animations similar to those from the film.
Pivotal moments in Hedwig’s life coincide with the fall of the Berlin Wall which features into the story as an echo of traumatic collapse and eventual reunion. A central element of Quynh Diep’s set design is a fabric backdrop of graffiti meant to represent the Wall, with a rusted-out telephone booth, broken televisions and tires off to the side—discarded and lonely artifacts of contemporary civilization.
Niall Durcan‘s lighting fills out the space with a punchy, rock-concert aesthetic. Meredith Shedden’s production has plenty of colour and attitude, but never feels sprawling or busy. All elements ultimately draw our attention to James’ Hedwig and Luca McPhee’s Yitzhak (her husband and back-up singer) and their dysfunction. Hedwig’s cruel belittling of him and his snarly barbs of retaliation are played for humour, but a nasty undercurrent haunts their dynamic. Irene Ly’s costumes for each are garish facades of gender performance, yet James and McPhee fill them with such vital and boundless humanity.
Their chemistry is intense and we get our first proper taste of it with “Sugar Daddy,” their re-enactment of Hedwig’s courtship with an American soldier named Luther who showers her with saccharine gifts. My favourite song from the musical, “Wig in a Box,” is another highlight—a melancholic yet empowering fantasy of glamour as a defiant act of creation in a mundane reality. The pageantry of it is spoofed by the hilarious way McPhee unceremoniously plops the wigs on James’ head—a cute, subtle detail that really tickled me and which I found oddly affecting. And they absolutely killed it with “Midnight Radio,” in which McPhee especially delivers some heartfelt and explosive belting.
Of course, a shout out is required for the wigs! Brandon Darcel (design) and Hannah Dulong (supervision) provide some truly iconic looks.
Hedwig and the Angry Inch is poignant and exhilarating. Bowtie Productions just keeps knocking these out of the park.
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
running September 1 to 7, 2024
Theatre Passe Muraille Mainspace (16 Ryerson Ave)
running time: 90 minutes
Jessie James and Luca McPhee in “Hedwig and the Angry Inch”, Photo by Taylor Long