The latest production in my season subscription to the American Theater Company is "Hedwig and The Angry Inch," which I saw last night. Was aware of the show, knew something of the story, but had never gotten a good idea of whether I'd like it or not.
They went all atmosphere on our behinds: since Hedwig and her band, The Angry Inch, perform in a club setting, we were given wristbands and told to go around to the alley, walk down, and knock on the door (in effect, we were entering the theater from the back). I went down the alley, saw a sign for The American Underground, knocked three times on the door as instructed, and was greeted by a 65-year-old man in a button-down shirt and slacks.
So OK, some of it was not quite authentic.
Once inside, I was surrounded by black walls covered with band posters, and I suddenly felt that it was 1984 and I was at Spit on Lansdowne Street.
The show was very good, and the actor playing Hedwig was amazing; I don't know how he does this several nights in a row without collapsing from exhaustion. There is the band, and a very minor supporting character, but it's really a one-man show, and he never stops talking or singing. The set was wonderful, the music was soundtrack-purchase-worthy, and I really enjoyed it all. Turned out that the drummer for the band was my old buddy Doomed Attraction, so I had to suspend my disbelief, knowing that this "Punk" band member was really a real-estate agent, but that's OK.