The Movement Must Go On

It’s not every night that you get to see Wonder Woman, a Golden Girl, and Barbarella on the same stage—but then, Monday’s Defying Inequality benefit concert was no ordinary night. Next secured me a pair of press tickets to the event raising money for marriage equality organizations. The star-studded lineup included the radiant Lynda Carter, Rue McClanahan (who spoke of her own right to marry—and remarry!—as she pleased), and Jane Fonda. The latter announced that the creators of Wicked (the event was held at the show’s home, the Gershwin Theater) had jointly contributed an additional $250,000 to the cause. Though the show was overlong and had some slow bits (the men of The Little Mermaid massacring “Part of Your World” was a low point), it offered plenty of great entertainment. A sing-along by cast members from Sesame Street made us all feel like kids again, and we were also treated to memorable performances by Ugly Betty’s adorable Mark Indelicato, comedian Mike Birbiglia, and the dancers from The Color Purple doing an exuberant take on the “Single Ladies” choreography. (Having three sassy male dancers lead that performance underscored the evening’s theme: let us put a ring on it, already!) Cyndi Lauper, alas, did not sing, but the Sicilian spitfire delivered an impassioned if meandering speech. She also got some of the night’s biggest laughs when she referenced Harvey Fierstien’s letter to the President and accidentally said “Harvey Weinstein.” Oops! As the crowd guffawed, Cyndi exclaimed, “That was last night! Damnit!”
But beyond the show’s undeniable entertainment value, it was a powerful reminder that we are in the midst of a true social revolution. After seeing and reading about Harvey Milk and the beginnings of the gay movement, I wished I could have participated in those historic events; but last night it hit me that there is an important battle for equality raging right *now,* and every one of us can participate. Again and again performers last night emphasized that the fight for civil equality is one we can and will win. We need only to keep fighting. I’m reminded of young Cleve Jones (Emile Hirsch) in the movie Milk: “I don’t do losing.” We should all be so stubborn and tenacious.

Xanadu!

The other night my friend Eddie took me to see Xanadu, the musical adaptation of the notoriously bad Olivia Newton John film. I had been wanting to see the show for a while, and the giddily silly, gay-as-all-get-out play didn't disappoint. Xanadu stars the luscious Cheyenne Jackson as Sonny, a dimwitted artist who's on the verge of suicide when Clio (Kerry Butler), a Grecian muse, arrives in human form as "Kira" and encourages him to pursue his dream. See, what Sonny really wants to do is... open up a roller disco! "How timeless," Clio says breathlessly. But along the way, Clio and Sonny fall for each other (forbidden since Clio can't love a mortal) and tangle with the would-be disco's owner, curmudgeonly old businessman Danny Maguire (Tony Robbins). Maguire eventually warms to their plan, especially when he gets the nagging feeling that he's met (and loved) "Kira" before... Xanadu is a fantastically fun show, filled with energy and exuberance. The creators use all of the film's terrific songs (probably the sole reason anyone even remembered the God-awful film) and adapt the story in a way that's cheekily self aware. There are references to the cultural sterility of the '80s, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and even leg warmers. One of the best jokes is Clio's decision to affect an Australian accent, a wink at the movie's use of an obvious Aussie in a "Grecian" role. (Newton John is pictured above with Jackson.) "They call me Keeeeeeeeraaaaah," Butler says repeatedly, overdoing the accent to hilarious effect. She's terrific, charming and fun, with a fine singing voice and the impressive ability to perform nearly the entire show in roller skates. Ditto Jackson, who's lovably, wonderfully dunder-headed as his character-- and so hot he practically burns the theater down. (If only all strapping male leads were dressed in form fitting tank tops and jean shorts.) He can also belt it out with the best of them, reaching impressive high notes throughout the numerous production numbers. The supporting cast is fine as well, with Mary Testa and Jackie Hoffman stealing the show as Clio's jealous, scheming sisters. (At one point, the hysterical Hoffman literally starts to chew the scenery.) Xanadu also pulls off the neat trick of being both adult and kid-friendly; while Hoffman aptly describes it as "like children's theater for 40-year-old gay people," it has all the spunk and sass of a great Disney movie, and audiences of all ages seem to be responding favorably. (As for lines referencing Jackson's "big hands and big feet," well... what the kiddies don't know won't hurt them.) Xanadu is a guilty pleasure, but it's one with heart and humor, and entertains fabulously. "Huzzah, sisters!"