VCDS’ Hedwig and the Angry Inch sells out the Cat’s Eye
On October 14 and 15, nestled in the far west corner of the Goldring Student Centre, a lucky handful of campus theatre-goers were transported into the world of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Produced by the Victoria College Drama Society (VCDS) and directed by Anthony Palermo, Vic’s first fully-fledged musical post-COVID-19 restrictions was beautiful, fun, and a total success.
Hedwig details the life and love story of genderqueer rock n’ roll performer Hedwig Schmidt (Thomas Cordoso Quinn) and her band, The Angry Inch. She sings, she dances, she verbally abuses her partner-in-crime Yitzhak (Emma Coulson), and explores the many nuances of love, gender, belonging, betrayal, and hair.
For a performance with only two actors, VCDS’ production never failed to feel full of life. Palermo’s slight amendments to the text allowed for some great quips and a notably hilarious shaming of Jordan Peterson’s views on gender: “How do I look Jordan?” Hedwig beckons into the crowd. She also doesn’t shy away from calling out UofT’s “inadequate mental health care.”
The decision to stage Hedwig in the Cat’s Eye, which had been transformed into a wonderfully intimate theatre venue with soft lighting and couches, really gave the play an immersive touch. When Hedwig entered through the aisle and grabs her mic on a stand, you were right there with her in the audience of her band’s fictional performance. It felt special. When she sings “The Origin of Love,” you know she is giving you a little piece of herself too. That’s also, however, largely credited to Quinn’s exceptional embodiment of Hedwig. I never once doubted Hedwig’s authenticity. To play a character who contends with as much pain as she does joy, takes serious dedication to get right, and the work to do so shone through in every beat and song.
However, what maybe stole the show the most for me was, in fact, the costume design (Gabe Woo), which, in all of its symbolism, quite frankly blew me away. Hedwig’s various costume changes occured in a series of undressings, each revealing a different layer of herself, as she gradually becomes more emotionally vulnerable with the audience and sheds her armour. The fabrics themselves were covered in Keith Haring-esque figures with accents of pink and blue bandanas–colour choices I take not to be incidental. In the twist at the end of the play (which I’ll refrain from spoiling too deeply), the new bearer of Hedwig’s garments wears them proudly in a reconfigured ‘collage’—perhaps a sneaky reference to the song “Exquisite Corpse?”
But the details didn’t stop there. The set included stacks of old boxy TVs and a screen which projected clips and illustrations alongside the lyrics of all the songs, with particular homage to “The Origin of Love” illustrations from the film. The creative team’s intent and thoughtfulness was certainly evident.
In short, Hedwig was a brilliant reminder of the transformative magic of musical theatre and its ability to tell meaningful stories in the most quirky and rebellious ways. The performances were as fun and energised as they are heartwarming and hopeful. I imagine that we will be hearing the buzzings of its success for quite some time.
