Evelyn Parry erased Drag Queens in Outer Space from the 40th anniversary of Buddies in Bad Times Theatre because she didn’t like a blog I had written here. This was censorship; but I’m not going to cry over spilt milk. The sister play of Drag Queens in Outer Space is Drag Queens On Trial, and it is a much better play. That's why I’m going to rattle on about it. I am not in the habit of talking about my old plays, but since both Drag Queens On Trial and its sister are likely to die lonely and ignominious deaths, I might as well talk about them now. (Besides, who knows? I’m 71 and frankly, I won’t be around forever.) Drag Queens on Trial — though it quickly became an audience and critical hit in 1985 — has never had a professional production in Canada (only in the USA!). Likely there never will be one. It has also never been properly understood. Its initial success (and lack of staying power) makes me ponder what will happen to similar plays published in Canada recently. I am not speaking of plays about drag queens; I am speaking of plays that are much vaunted for their ‘political correctness’ when they appear, but have no actual relation to the public zeitgeist, and so quite naturally slip into oblivion. Contrary to what you might imagine, Drag Queens on Trial - though it is humorous and quite filthy, is also dreadfully serious and deals with the topic of AIDS in a way that it has never been dealt with before. It was way ahead of its time, or perhaps — and — this is much more likely -- its time may never come (until, like any old whore who sticks around too long, it becomes a respected institution). John Glines almost produced DQOT at The Glines in New York City in the 80s — but I declined his invitation . (Glines was famous for having premiered Harvey Fierstein’s Torch Song Trilogy). John Glines did produce DQOT much much later, in New York City, in a very badly acted and directed production. The reason why I declined Glines’ initial invitation is very relevant to my argument here. As recounted in my memoir, John Glines was very excited about the play, and I was very excited about him producing it, until he said — “I want all the jokes. I love all the jokes. But we’ve got to get rid of all the AIDS stuff. New York is tired of all that AIDS stuff.” This is the problem with DQOT — it’s eminently entertaining — especially for straight people who want to fool themselves for an hour and a half into thinking they are so very, very open minded for watching it. But to anyone inside the gay community, the AIDS content would be unsettling — both in 1985, and today. Basically, Lana Lust, the brazen slut who is the leading character, when confronted with her AIDS diagnosis (by The Bad Witch of the West, no less!) has an nearly mawkish yet very stirring speech in which she defends her promiscuity, admitting to swallowing ‘busloads of sperm.' Finally, she proclaims ‘don’t look back, don’t give up, it was worth it!’ Audiences inevitably burst into spontaneous applause without knowing why. But my play was about theatre — as much as it was about gay politics — and I was trying to parody the kind of 19th century melodrama in which heroes deliver heartbreaking soul-inspiring speeches at the end — speeches that persuade the audience to rise to their feet in blind adoration. So on the one hand, the play seems to support an idea that is repulsive to some, even today — that endangering one’s life by being a slut is okay, and that promiscuity may be even an heroic act. But one is meant to be skeptical of Lana's sentiments — in the manner of Susan Sontag’s ‘camp’ — and furthermore, skeptical of any and all attempts to sway our emotions in a melodramatic manner. In fact the audience is asked to be both moved and self-critical at the same time. What’s interesting and relevant to all the terribly politically correct plays being produced today is that the Canadian theatre establishment back then was (as it still is now) dedicated to virtue signalling. The academics who published my play (God bless them!) could not resist congratulating themselves on their sensitivity and political acuity for automatically declaring my play a Canadian classic. (The same kind of acclaim followed George Ryga for Ecstasy of Rita Joe in 1967.) Today we are seeing a spate of plays that also speak —- sometimes eloquently, and sometimes not — about social justice issues. They immediately become critical hits, and are published. But I don’t know if they will ever reach a wider public, as the arts in Canada are (thank God again! ) funded by the government, and exist in a kind of sanitized bubble. As such they are not required to ever make contact with the real world. I’m not complaining about any of this. Do with this what you will. I’m just making an observation.
For some reason.
It just came to me.
