HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH
John Cameron Mitchell brings his off-Broadway hit to the cineplex.
John Cameron Mitchell's dark and humorous glam-punk odyssey, based on
his off-Broadway hit, is a rock 'n' roll musical set largely in
a chain of fictionalized Long John Silver's restaurants and populated
by persons of uncertain gender (and the outcasts they've befriended).
Built around a theory of love's origin from Plato's Symposium,
it's a mishmash of ideas, emotions and musical styles, held together
by the deeply wounded yet unbreakable hero(ine) Hedwig, played by
first-time film director Mitchell.
From behind the salad bar sneeze guards, Hedwig -- a sinewy blur of glitter
eye shadow, acid-wash denim and cartoonish swoops of blonde hair
-- largely confounds the geriatric diners who just came out to gum
hush puppies but find themselves front row at a rock show. Hedwig's
onstage banter centers on her obsessive quest for recognition from
big-time arena goth Tommy Gnosis (Dawson's Creek's Michael
Pitt), whose tour schedule dictates her own. Forever playing in
cramped fast-food franchises in the shadow of Tommy's vast auditoriums,
Hedwig contends that Gnosis is a former lover who stole all her
material. With the support of blindly devoted manager Phyllis Stein
(SCTV's Andrea Martin), Hedwig seeks her own kind of legitimacy
through the tabloid press.
Hedwig on the stage was more or less a one-(wo)man show, taking place in
the course of a night: Hedwig detailed her life story -- including
the botched sex-change operation that enabled him to escape East
Germany -- while performing in a dive bar with her biker band the
Angry Inch. In bringing the show to the screen, Mitchell's challenge
is to show audiences the people and places he'd previously only
described with wit and bite -- and to somehow transport the rock
energy of a live band performance to the sticky-floored movie cineplex...and
he's succeeded.
While Moulin Rouge, this summer's other big musical, purposely
jarred the audience with its anachronistic song selection, Hedwig's
sing-along punk anthems (by lyricist-composer Stephen Trask) pull
us in, grabbing our attention without taking us out of the story.
Not even an animated sequence used to illustrate Hedwig's song Origin
of Love, which quotes directly from the Symposium's description
of four-legged creatures cut apart by Zeus (love originated in their
wounded attempts to reclaim their other halves), breaks the story's
hold.
That's due largely to Mitchell himself, whose engaging portrayal of the
man-turned-almost-woman is at once heartbreaking and inspiring.
While the character marks Mitchell's first foray into both cross-dressing
and rock 'n' roll, you wouldn't guess it by his performance. In
this thematic companion to glam-rock period drama Velvet Goldmine,
Mitchell, an award-winning Broadway performer (The Secret Garden,
Hello Again), channels the silky crooning of David Bowie and
the raw physical energy of Iggy Pop.
Less gender politics and more a portrait of a talented, internationally
ignored artist, Hedwig and the Angry Inch has a broader appeal
than its subject matter suggests. If a seeming outcast like Hedwig
can find a little peace in the world, there's hope, this movie reminds
us, for all of us.
by Samantha Bornemann
Published 08.01
at Playboy.com
- - - -
C O N T A C T | M E
Email samantha@shinygun.com
Return to work samples >