“We’re all born naked and the rest is drag” is an immediate thought on the first watch of ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’. RuPaul’s most famous catchphrase comes from the idea that there is more to a person than what is outwardly visible. The story of two drag queens and a transgender woman tottering through the Australian desert is sharp, flamboyant, and fabulously witty – and buries extraordinary vulnerability beneath piles of glitter and dazzling smiles.
In the sparkle of the stage, Mitzi del Bra is a drag queen down on the town – and down on her luck. With both the crowds and the years starting to pass her by, she finds herself at a loss after a call from her ex-wife, who demands she come to the remote town of Alice Springs to meet their nine-year-old son. Now out of costume as Anthony ‘Tick’ Belrose, Tick takes his old friend Bernadette Bassenger – a transgender woman grieving her lover – and rival queen Felicia Jollygoodfellow to perform at his ex-wife’s casino, though doesn’t tell them the real reason for their visit.
Thundering through rural Australia on a school bus christened ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’, the trio soon find themselves face-to-face with a host of bizarre characters, with some far crueller than others. But after Priscilla breaks down in the middle of the Simpson Desert, the three must find a way to keep moving forward– and see if they can make their own dreams come true on the way.
Famously difficult to do well, ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ is the blueprint of jukebox musicals. With timeless classics ranging from ‘Shake your Groove Thing’ to ‘Hot Stuff’ thrusting camp upon the audience from the get-go, Priscilla surpasses itself with a surprisingly insightful commentary on the changing generations of drag – delivered easily through the trio’s messy spats on the value of lip-syncing versus singing.
Adele Anderson’s (Fascinating Aida) solos and duets as Bernadette are masterclasses in classy-but-camp, while Nick Hayes’ vocals prophesise a glittering future for Felicia’s singing career. Also a treat was the young Harper Etienne as Tick’s son Benjy, whose unbelievable duet with his father (Kevin Clifton) had the crowd in a manic frenzy – a true delight to watch.
The ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ musical comes just more than 30 years after the release of the original film, which was based on the lives of three real-life drag queens and became a worldwide sensation. Now considered a cult classic, the original Priscilla was far ahead of its time with its portrayal of LGBTQ+ culture, and the musical, in many ways, remains far ahead of ours. As hate crimes against LGBTQ+ people have skyrocketed over the past five years – rising by 88% among transgender people in particular – it has become increasingly rare to see scenes of bigotry given the same weight and horror that Priscilla affords. The music cuts, the stage stills, and we are left to stare; queer people are adored until the sun rises, Bernadette says – and we in the audience must sit with the characters through every second past dawn.
‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ is a tremendous rendition of a tremendous film, and comes to the UK at a time where queer culture needs desperately to be more embraced. The musical is an electric cocktail of debauchery and depth, with a clattering ego that’s rare to encounter outside of Canal Street’s smokiest balconies. Classy, flexible, and sharply polished, ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ is the queen of the Palace Theatre.
