Shake your love thing

>> Hedwig and the Angry Inch is one of the strangest musicals ever

by MATTHEW HAYS

In his onscreen recreation of his off-Broadway stage role, John Cameron Mitchell is astounding in Hedwig and the Angry Inch. He plays the confused protagonist at the centre of the film who, we learn as the story unfolds, tried to have a sex change in order to marry a military man he fell in love with.

Sadly, though, Hedwig's operation went quite wrong, and he has been left with an inch of flesh between his legs--thus the film's title. It's spectacularly weird, both the plot, the play and the movie, and what's intriguing about Hedwig is that Mitchell, who also directs, has managed to take his play, keep its staginess very, very intact, and turn it into a queerly entertaining movie.

In this wacky punk/trannie soap opera, Hedwig suffers through all sorts of indignities typical of the melodrama. Rejection from lovers, exes who've gained bigger star status than he has, fights with his roadies ("You put a bra in the dryer! Everyone knows they lose their shape if you put them in the dryer," he screams at one point).

Mitchell belts out numerous songs as the various dramas unfold and thrashes about like an off-kilter rockette. In true Brechtian form, politics are also introduced (the Berlin Wall comes down in news clips). Hedwig is booked into venues (by manager Andrea Martin, of SCTV fame) that seem entirely inappropriate (i.e. sandwich delis). Undaunted, Hedwig fires off lines like, "I performed once, they threw tomatoes. After the show I had a nice salad!"

Though fresh and innovative, Hedwig recalls earlier works by queer types. Mitchell was definitely striving for a movie laden with queer references, from David Bowie to Fassbinder to Todd Haynes even. Certainly, the film has been evoking comparisons to Velvet Goldmine (and the big-budget Moulin Rouge as well), Haynes's period piece about the pop Glam movement of the '70s.

Brecht can be felt throughout Hedwig, with constant reminders that we're watching a performance throughout, from animated asides, direct address, make-up and Farrah-Fawcett wig-donning sessions, the whole nine yards. But where Haynes created a bit too much Brechtian emotional distance for his own good, Mitchell keeps us attached to dear Hedwig, a rough but entirely vulnerable and ultimately sympathetic character. Soon, s/he's seeming like a rocked-out, drugged-out, punkish version of Judy Garland. This empowers the film with a kind of identification Goldmine lacked. Mitchell's creation has us in the palm of the star and filmmaker's hands, watching, waiting and hoping for a happy ending. A trippy little fairy tale, indeed.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch opens Friday, August 3