reTHEATER presents John Cameron Mitchell's 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch' (second review)

What are you?

As much as I love Rocky Horror, I'm left cold by Hedwig in this incarnation. Director Josh Hitchens's two-hour production (though reTheater claims it's 90 minutes) provided plenty of time to ponder why.

Hedwig, as staged at the Ruba Club, doesn't know whether it's a play or a concert. Veering toward the latter with painfully loud music and screaming into microphones, it makes understanding dialogue and lyrics almost impossible.

For concerts, this is no problem. Most people who hear live music are already familiar with recordings and the form's conventions, which include ear-splitting volume and fuzzed-out vocals. Those seeing a play, though, appreciate character and plot; enjoy hearing and understanding words, considering them vital; and don't think that they have to already know a play in order to appreciate it.

It's also nice to actually like the characters, a challenge in Braden Chapman's portrayal of the titular character whose botched sex-change operation leaves her with an "angry inch," uncertain sexuality, and multiple failed relationships. Chapman yells, screeches, and growls through blistering rants, overwrought weeping, and scatological ad-libs about local landmarks.

At Sunday's performance, an incredibly loud contingent screamed in laughter at such bon mots as "that shithole Wilmington." Noel Coward it's not — and did I mention the bar's open?

Chapman fares better singing — or, rather, yelling in rhythm — and the tight band led by Bobby Goodrich shows skill, beyond their requisite ability to crank the volume up to 11. Hedwig's songs are rocking fun, while Chapman's meandering commentary (through which the story finally drips, long after I'd lost hope) just leaves us chomping for the next song. Concert wins, play loses.

Look, pretty!

Scott McMaster's busy set spills from Ruba's small stage, looking like a colorful postapocalyptic ruin or the morning after a really great party where all the kids' toys were broken. At least 15 television sets broadcast a nonstop image collage (designed by Chapman, Marcus Neil Gordon, and Maria Goodman). The images range from nightmarish doll cartoons to the understated brilliance of one steady shot of '70s wood paneling to represent Hedwig's hellish Kansas home. Alyssandra Docherty's lighting blends concert glitz with theatrical visibility, plus Gummi Bear lights.

Goodrich also designed the grunge-meets-glam costumes, having particular fun with several stunning Hedwig changes. One red fur jacket looks like a giant plush toy with arm holes. He also works magic with the climactic transformation of Hedwig's sidekick Yitzhak (Stephanie C. Kernisan).

The elephant in the room, of course, is Broad Street Review's first review and the comments it generated, revealing Hedwig fans' passionate loyalty. As if in reply, reTHEATER posts warning signs humorously cautioning about everything from loud music and men dressing as women to, yes, audience participation — and informing those offended to instead see the Walnut's Mamma Mia!

Chapman's forays into the audience were fairly tame, in my view — forewarned as I was — and he jokingly asked for permission before sitting on the lap of someone clearly eager to approve. However, he also made a snide remark about needing to ask. Hmmm.

That I went to a play that turned out to be an overlong concert will not please fans of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, of course. But that's not the point, is it? The character Hedwig, whom I know is in there somewhere, would approve of my frankness.

To read Braden Chapman's response, click here.