Hedwig and The Angry Inch
Upon learning I was to review “Hedwig and The Angry Inch,” at the Met Theatre in Hollywood, I was excited at the prospect of finally seeing the cult classic I had heard so much about. So when the band opened the show by launching into the hard-rocking “Tear Me Down,” as Hedwig (Chuck DiMaria) pranced and preened about the stage, I was primed and ready for a visual and aural extravaganza. Hedwig looked great—an androgynous Dee Snider (is there any other kind?) decked out in red, patent-leather, high-heeled boots—and the band, steered by the frenetic drumming of Jeffrey Shapiro and the musical direction of Christian Nesmith, had the audience grooving in the seats. Unfortunately, along the way, the story got in the way of a good rock show.
Hedwig begins life as Hansel, a young boy in communist East Berlin, world-weary and disaffected, under the thumb of an oppressive government. When he meets an American soldier named Luther, the two fall in love and Hansel agrees to undergo a sex-change operation so he can go to America as Luther’s wife. This decision proves disastrous as the operation is botched and Hansel’s surgically constructed vagina heals closed, leaving only “an angry inch” of flesh where his genitals used to be.
Upon arriving in the United States, Luther leaves Hedwig on the day the Berlin Wall comes down. The remainder of the play finds Hedwig on an emotional quest to find love and “her other half.” This search for her other half is explained through the song “The Origin of Love,” which derives its message from the ancient myth that humans were once two-headed, eight-limbed beings that were cleaved in two by angry gods, causing the separated beings to spend forever looking for their other half.
Hedwig finds love again in the form of Tommy Gnosis (one of many transparent word plays in the show), a man she befriends until he steals her songs and becomes famous. Gnosis is never seen, but is heard often, as a faceless rock star that Hedwig summons by opening a door at the rear of the stage.
Eventually, Hedwig ends up with Yitzhak (Renee Cohen), an hermaphroditic sidekick who spends most of the show standing in the corner scowling at the audience. Finally, at the show’s climax, Hedwig sheds her skin, so to speak, to the song “Midnight Radio” as she performs bizarre gyrations under a pulsing strobe, evoking memories of Buffalo Bill from “The Silence of The Lambs.” Presumably, Hedwig has found herself and is now whole.
Between the fantastic music and DiMaria’s funny and charismatic performance, I couldn’t put my finger on why the show was so unsatisfying, until I realized that in Los Angeles—indeed, most of dumbed-down America—the actual event rarely lives up to the hype that occasions it. And then I thought…maybe it’s just a bad play.
While the sound design sometimes made it hard to make out Hedwig’s dialogue, playwright John Cameron Mitchell’s jokes ultimately were sophomoric and relied on bad puns. The story seemed a tad self-indulgent as well. Hansel cavalierly changes sexes though there was no physical urge compelling him to do so, and then blames others for how Hedwig’s life turns out.
Life is complicated and rife with maelstroms of emotion and pain, but only a blind man can miss the irony of those who self-mutilate and defile their “temple” to be different, and then become angry and disillusioned when they find that they’re no more original or closer to the answer than the other like-minded sheep. In the end, I suspect the primary reason for this show’s cult-like following is the prevailing mentality in this country that the quality of a show, movie, book, or restaurant is directly proportional to the length of time one is willing to stand in line to experience it.
If you want to hear some good rock and roll, go see “Hedwig and The Angry Inch,” just close your eyes to the story. The show runs January 18th through February 24th with performance at 8pm on Fridays, 8pm and 11pm on Saturdays, and 7pm on Sundays. Visit www.plays411.com for tickets.