The Case for Australian Queens

Right off the bat, let me say that I was a huge fan of the film Priscilla Queen of the Desert. It was dry, funny, had some great performances and completely outrageous costumes, and was full of Abba. So of course, and following much heeded encouragement, it was only natural some 15 years after I saw the original film I would have to go and see the musical version. Auckland was the venue, the Civic on Queen Street (of course!) to be more precise, and tucked up in the back, in front of loud homophobes and surrounded by flashing cocktail glasses and the occasionally costumed co-spectator, I sat and expected.

To begin with, I thought I had expected too much. The first few numbers were a bit flat even though the costumes were suitably insane. It all just felt too small. Perhaps it was intentional that the initial bar club scenes feel claustrophobic, but I was not at all impressed by the almost high school pantomimic quality. And then… it all changed.

Several thousand tents of campness were erected, the outrageousness reached Jem-like proportions and someone put on some Dame Edna spectacles, because the Priscilla version of “Venus” brought the house down. Much like Bernadette, I would have been speechless had this not been just what I had been craving.

And, shortly thereafter, the star of the show was wheeled out. Priscilla, the giant Playmobil bus, with its folding down sides and Drag Queen Barbie interior in pink and chiffon, was an incredible prop. It moved around the stage like a wind up toy, occasionally acting as stage for the main characters and the anglic chorus that provided the real voices behind the lip-synching show scenes. Apparently this prop cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and considering its versatility and importance in the show, it was money well spent.

Like the bus, the story followed the same route as the film. Some dialogue was repeated verbatim (including the Mullet showdown with Bernadette, which has never really amused me since I first heard it), so my appreciation was somewhat more muted than my less-fluent-in-the-film fellows. But enough fresh material was introduced to keep me laughing (even some Nu Zild references), and some of the scenes are so funny I can watch them over and over again in any medium.

There were some changes: Abba became Kylie (probably as Mamma Mia has put the kibosh on anyone else using those songs in musicals at the moment, or it could be that this was just to honour another Australian icon), though, there actually weren’t that many Kylie songs in there, and the version of “Confide in Me” I noted in the musical was almost unrecognisable; the “rock” became Ayers Rock / Uluru, as had been intended in the movie though filming permission could not be obtained; and quick costume changes were managed through slick slight of stage trickery rather than stopping and starting the camera. And of course the cast was a different set of people.

Well, almost. Lovable Bob from the film was back, though the person who compared his contribution to the stage show to that of a block of wood was not inaccurate. The three main characters were new people for me, and all incredible stage performers. I kept comparing (unfavourably) the musical interpretation of Bernadette as a bit of a shrill Miss Piggy, to Terrence Stamp’s dignified “grande dame” performance in the film. However, there was no denying that Mr Stamp’s tranny had nowhere near the stage performing chops of the musical version of Ralph, which was obviously a big plus considering.

And the stage performances. Wow... I can’t say too much without giving away too much of what is undoubtedly the best part of the show. The costumes were fittingly outlandish, with all the old film frocks (the jandal dress, the Marie Antoinette Opera House gowns) back even if just for brief appearances, and dozens of new dresses as well, some with towering headdresses and enough feathers to make several bird species extinct, and others with so little material that every birthmark was visible. My personal favourites were the blink-and-you-miss-it appearance of the Minties dresses during the fantastically-arranged “Alice Springs opening night” performance, the Angel and Cockatoo-inspired outfits, and of course the green “McArthur Park”-themed attire.

What passed for story in between the huge musical numbers worked, in my opinion, much better on the big screen than on the big stage. Musical Bob and Bernadette’s chemistry was missing (mixing wood with water perhaps?), and the father-son reunion was a patch of unwelcome dullness in amongst so much energy. Really, the story is all an excuse for zany situations and a seamstress’s most Dali-esque fantasies, so it didn’t really matter that much. The show is the thing, and what a thing it is.

Verdict: Truly, truly, truly outrageous. Once I got past the attempts at sincerity and scene-setting, these Misfits and their heavenly vocal angels offer so much fun and vivacity that I was totally swept along and away. Even the homophobes behind me had to surrender to the wonderful Australian Spirit of Priscilla the Musical. Nine thongs out of ten.