The HoMo'Nique Show

Here's something that wasn't really a show, but I'll talk about anyway. I was going to pair this with something else, but then I just kept on writing. And writing. So: a live drag talk show. Go!

I love me some RuPaul's Drag Race. If anyone watched the recent season, you'll remember Stacy Layne Matthews, the plus-plus-sized queen from Back Swamp, North Carolina whose strongest moments on the show were downing some fried chicken in a fake exercise video and doing an impression of Mo'Nique as Precious's mom. In retrospect, I'm not toooootally sure why I was so excited to see her. But I was! So when I found out she was doing a live talk show as Mo'Nique (make that HoMo'Nique), I snatched up tickets (apologies for a terrible pun).

Here's the deal. Stacy does a mean Mary, mother of Precious. And while that character was played by Mo'Nique, she was not, in fact, Mo'Nique. Stacy as the real woman? Scattershot and a little on the dull side. And Lorrrrrrd almighty, she cannot do an interview. Can. Not. If there was not a question written on the piece of paper in front of her, she was not asking it. If a guest started to go someplace fun and interesting, she clumsily put her foot down, grinding the proceedings to a halt. She was by far her best when "live via satellite," she did an interview with herself. Yes, she clung to that script for dear life, but it was cute nonetheless, even if I can't for the life of me understand why "real" Stacy was dressed as Precious's mother while "Mo'Nique" was just Mo'Nique.

As far as the other guests, comedian Shawn Hollenbach as quite funny, but I know him so feel like it would be weird to try to discuss his act. Jenn Harris of Silence! The Musical, was a total hoot and actually got Stacy to do an impromptu Hannibal Lecter impression. Well done, Ms. Harris, not only being funny but bringing the other folks on stage up a notch--she's a fucking pro. The one person I was unfamiliar with was Molly "Equality" Dykeman--a character played by...someone--I have no idea. Molly is a lesbian poet/crossing guard who writes about what means the most to her: vagina. She was, I kid you not, genius. I got home and immediately bought tickets to see her show at the Fringe, The Fucking World According to Molly. Will the act hold up over 60 or more minutes? Who knows? But if I laugh a few times as hard as I did when I saw her here, I'll consider it $18 well spent.

Last up was Colton Ford. Or, as he was referred to every time he was mentioned, "Vocalist, Colton Ford." Not "Porn star, Colton Ford." Because he gave that up ten years ago, and it never goes away, and he wishes he had never done it, and he just wants to be taken seriously for his voice, goddamn it! Here's the thing...while I'm sure it's hard to be taken seriously as an entertainer after you've done porn, I'm not really (read: at all) convinced that in Mr. Ford's case, he didn't actually benefit more from the exposure (more bad puns!) than it acted to his detriment. He's a nice enough singer, but he's also in his upper-40s. That means that by the time he was trying to break into music, he was already at an age when most people who hadn't made it would stop imagining they were going to be pop stars. And if you're going to try to shed your porn image, then why not drop your stage name? And for God's sake, no one's going to forget you were a gay porn star if you still wear pants that, um, revealing. Regardless, he seemed very nice and did a solid take on Robyn's "With Every Heartbeat."

Now let's get to the closer. Stacy tells us she's been taking voice lessons and proceeds to sing...I can't believe I'm about to type this..."And I Am Telling You." Okay. "And I Am Telling You" is not the greatest song ever written. It is not sacred. People can cover it. But. This is a song that has been performed by THE biggest voices around. It isn't a song meant to be sung, it's meant to be lived. It demands vocal gymnastics, and if a performer's heart isn't left on the floor by the end of it, it won't compare to previous versions. Say what you will about Jennifer Hudson's Oscar (and believe me, I have A LOT to say), she killed that song. And Jennifer Holliday's version is available on YouTube. She killed it, brought it back from the dead, and slaughtered it anew. This is not a sacred song, but it is also not a song to be sung when you're working your way through singing lessons. Because at the start, someone may think, "Huh. She was a surprisingly strong voice." But by the end, they're just going to be comparing you to Jennifer Holliday. And that is a losing battle.

Stacy Layne Matthews: sweet but misguided. Now let's get some Pandora Boxx up in this bitch.