On Hedwig and Transgender Identity

To be fair, Hedwig and the Angry Inch was created a long time ago in trans representation terms.  The off-Broadway show opened in 1998, after The Crying Game but before Boys Don’t Cry.  This was ages before Laverne Cox, Caitlin Jenner, and the present still-messy-but-generally-trying-to-sort-itself world of trans representation.  All of which is to say, I expect Hedwig to get stuff wrong, and I don’t expect its portrayal to be entirely without offense.  (A few spoilers.)

That said, there’s still some craziness here, enough that I tend to think of Hedwig as transsexual, a term I usually bristle at, rather than transgender.  That’s because I don’t really see Hedwig identifying as female prior to her mishandled gender reassignment surgery.  The impression I get is that, pre-operation, “slip of a girly boy” Hansel merely wants to pose as a woman to get out of East Berlin with his American boyfriend.  He would maybe reassume the pretense on occasion for Green Card purposes, but it seems to me that it’s only intended to be “pretend.”  It isn’t until Hansel’s boyfriend points out that they have to marry before they leave – which, in East Germany, means a complete physical – that surgery is proposed and Hedwig is born.

So, instead of a trans woman whose gender reassignment is botched, we have a gay man who “becomes” a woman in a desperate bid to escape Communism, whose “sex-change” is botched.  That’s different.  It’s also totally wild, more of a comment on how much East Berlin sucked than an exploration of trans identity, with a helping of how rough it must’ve been to be gay in East Germany in the 1980s.  This is so different that I can’t get too outright upset at Hedwig for it (it’s also the reason I don’t really mind men playing the character.)  After all, this is a blatantly fanciful scenario that doesn’t pretend to resemble the lives of trans people.  Its greatest sin is that it can confuse the conversation and reinforce the false notion that someone “decides” to be trans.  To be sure, these aren’t small potatoes, but again, the whole story is so outrageous that I hope most would know not to use it as a crash-course in trans identity.

Despite the muddle, however, the show still provides some interesting insight into gender, even if it’s not as trans-specific as one might initially think.  I’m intrigued that, even though Hansel never gave any indication of identifying as female, once the surgery is over, Hedwig absolutely considers herself a woman, from the pronouns on.  Due to the complications with the operation, she feels “in-between,” not entirely one or the other, but after the surgery, she definitely lives as female.  I wonder why this is.  Is she simply making the best of “what [she has] to work with?”  Is it because she likes the wigs, heels, and glitter, none of which are categorically female but tend to be coded that way?  Is it because, having lost her penis, she feels she’s not allowed to be a man?  It isn’t until the very end of the show that Hedwig seems to come around to a more male identity again.  It’s not entirely clear; the change in Hedwig’s tattoo shows that the two half-faces have come together, so it may be that Hedwig is acknowledging herself as equally male and female, and she’ll decide in her own time what that looks like.  What is evident is that this is when Hedwig appears to come to terms with herself.  This could take us back to problematic territory if it’s suggesting that Hedwig has stopped “pretending” and has gone back to being male as he was “supposed to be,” but then, if Hedwig didn’t originally identify as female, it shouldn’t be wrong to stop doing so.  Still, if the outside concerns can be put aside for a minute (not to downplay them, but this whole situation is so tangled that it’s hard get much traction,) that finale image of Hedwig, at peace with whoever she or he may be, is a strong one.

Hamilton: Songs 29-33

The five numbers we’re looking at today all happen in pretty quick succession, as far as the story goes.  “Schuyler Defeated” leads into the other four, which are basically part of the same extended sequence.

“Schuyler Defeated” – The song is pretty simple – a return of the “look around” theme from “The Schuyler Sisters” and some back-and-forth between Burr and Hamilton – but the implications are what counts.  Here, Burr crosses party lines to get ahead, unseating Hamilton’s father-in-law in the process.  It’s probably the start of the break between Hamilton and Burr.

Best lyric:  “Oh, Wall Street thinks you’re great. / You’ll always be adored by the things you create.”

“Cabinet Battle #2” – Personally, I prefer rap debates on economic policy rather than foreign policy, but this one, in which Jefferson and Hamilton discuss whether or not the U.S. should get involved in a coming war between France and England, is still pretty good.  Nice burns on both side, and both men’s passion is evident.

Best lyric:  “We signed a treaty with a king whose head is now in a basket. / Would you like to take it out and ask it? / ‘Should we honor our treaty, King Louis’ head?’ / ‘Uh… do whatever you want, I’m super dead.’”

“Washington on Your Side” – I love this song.  The Democratic-Republicans are terrific antagonists, and here, they lay out their reasons for hating Hamilton, both valid (distrust of Wall Street) and not-so-valid (classist sneers at Hamilton himself.)  Also, it’s super-catchy, Jefferson’s rhyming is insane, and I just love that the line below now exists in the musical theatre canon.

Best lyric:  “Oh!  Let’s show these Federalists who they’re up against! / Oh!  Southern motherfuckin’ Democratic-Republicans!”

“One Last Time” – In which Washington explains to a bewildered Hamilton why he isn’t running for a third term as president.  As always, Washington impresses me with his wisdom and honor, and this beautiful number also makes me think how lucky the U.S. was that Washington didn’t stay on indefinitely like so many of the people wanted him to.  Other countries have revolted against unjust regimes and then installed their wildly-popular rebel leaders as their new heads of state in perpetuity, and it hasn’t often turned out well.

Best lyric:  “If I say goodbye, the nation learns to move on. / It outlives me when I’m gone.”

“I Know Him” – Our last number from King George III.  His bitchy glee at what he’s sure is America’s impending demise under Adams is entertaining enough, but I just adore him trying to wrap his head around the concept a new president.

Best lyric:  “They say / George Washington’s yielding his power and stepping away. / ‘Zat true? / I wasn’t aware that was something a person could do.”

My Wife’s Relations (1922)

This film is from the tail end of Buster Keaton’s era of independent shorts, when, by all accounts, he was getting itchy to move on to features and had waning interest in the format.  By his standards, it’s certainly middling, although there are still some solid sequences and good laughs to be had.

Thanks to an ill-timed phone call, a broken window, and a judge who only speaks Polish, Buster accidentally winds up marrying an abrasive woman who’s none too keen on him (don’t you just hate it when that happens?)  Because the logical next step after you accidentally marry someone you don’t like is “be married to them,” Buster’s less-than-blushing bride takes him home to meet the in-laws, a boorish clan with more than its share of oversized brothers.  What follows is Buster’s misadventures as he halfheartedly tries to ingratiate himself into his new “family;” the tiffs, the misunderstandings, and the slapstick are all out in full force.

If I had to pick a prevailing sensation for this short, it’s “disinterested.”  It feels a bit like it’s just going through the motions, a short-by-numbers rather than a short by Buster.  It moves fluidly enough from sequence to sequence (unlike some of his early mid-range shorts, he’s definitely learned how to craft a film at this point,) but it doesn’t seem terribly excited about getting there.

Which isn’t to say there’s nothing good here.  There are certainly Bustery touches to be had – it’s just that they flavor the short rather than saturate it.  Buster’s woes in trying to sort out his bed are top-notch, his strategy for wrestling a little dinner for himself off the plates of his ravenous in-laws is fun, and I just love the moment he shivers and turns up his collar after they all give him the stink-eye (it’s such a little thing, but it makes all the difference.)  Oh, and I like it when, having knocked out one of his brothers-in-law with a brick, he then uses the same brick as a pillow for the unconscious man.  In these moments, you can feel Buster’s personality coming through.

In general, it actually feels more like a Fatty Arbuckle short.  This isn’t a comment on the lackadaisical execution – the Arbuckle-Keaton shorts are mostly livelier, funnier, and more creative than this – so I don’t mean it as a knock against Arbuckle.  No, the similarity is in the style of the slapstick.  Much of Buster’s work focuses on 1) expert tumbling and 2) creative evasions in chase scenes to get the physical humor, but there’s not a lot of that here.  Instead, there’s more Arbuckle-esque fighting.  Punches, kicks, flung objects – this one’s down ‘n’ dirty, with a rougher quality that feels more reminiscent of Arbuckle’s slapstick sensibilities than Buster’s.  There’s a bit of a chase in the climax, which perks up a little, but the main thrust is still on clobbering.

Overall, okay.  I’d say this short falls into the “good for a silent movie” category, whereas Buster’s more signature stuff is just plain “good” (or, let’s be honest, “amazing!”), no qualifications necessary.

Warnings

Lots of slapstick violence and a little bootlegging.

Doctor Who: 912 – “Hell Bent” (2015)

Not a whole lot to be said without spoilers, but I’ll do my best.  My thoughts on the episode are still sorting themselves out.  I think it was kind of nice, but I also think it was pretty annoying, so there’s that.  I think it makes me optimistic for things to come?  (Optimistic overall, but in particular, the Christmas special looks like a delightful romp.)

Here’s the basics:  the Doctor is as mad as hell, and he’s not going to take this anymore.  He goes on one of his most epic “Time is not the boss of me!” tears of all time, never a good look for him, but bless Peter Capaldi, he mostly makes it work.  There are old faces, continuity nods to classic and new Who alike, arc resolutions and sort-of resolutions that don’t make a surfeit of sense, and high-octane scenes of Impeccable Acting.  Also, for an extended-length episode, it feels like shockingly little plot actually happens.

As always, I like Twelve, even though he’s not being at his best right now and I’m not a huge fan of the reasons behind it.  He’s acting entitled and kind of scary and scorched-earth, but there’s so much desperation and loss fueling it that it sort of works.  Instead of episodes like “The Caretaker,” where the Doctor acts like a dick Just Because, here, we at least get a look at the Doctor’s headspace and explore why he’s doing the dangerous and ill-advised things he’s doing.  That said, he goes way, way too far with it.  As in, the Time Lord Victorious can’t even be seen in the rearview mirror.  And that’s incredibly not good.  The resolution gives me hope that this won’t be an ongoing problem in future episodes – big relief there – but unfortunately, it also doesn’t give much indication that it will address the hugely serious crap that goes down here in any meaningful way.

I have mixed feelings on the big ending.  It has its good and not-so-good points, along with its rather cheesy points and a few overwrought points.  It’s interesting how it takes a device from a previous season and does the exact same thing with it, but in a completely different way.  I think it’ll probably bode well for moving forward.

And… I think that’s it?  Seriously, for an episode without a lot of story, there still manages to be spoilers around every corner.  It may take the next handful of Sunday Who Reviews to dig through all there is to talk about with the spoilers intact:  the plots of the last few episodes themselves, the Doctor, Clara, and what bearing all the developments therein may have on the series as a whole.  So, until next time!

On Gender in Hamilton

The founding of America tends to be viewed as an “old white guy” story, and while Hamilton’s casting throws out the “old white” part of the equation, it would’ve been easy for the show to be a total boys’ club.  To be sure, the Founding Fathers are all men, and they’re the big movers and shakers making things happen historically.  The women here are few.  However, both Angelica and Eliza are gorgeously-rich characters who are explored beyond their relationships with Hamilton (Eliza isn’t as strong out of the gate as Angelica, but she gets there,) and through them, the show offers a glimpse into the world of strong, intelligent women in the 18^th century.

Eliza (Hamilton’s wife) and Angelica (Eliza’s older sister whose connection to Hamilton was deep and intense) are in the show because of their ties to Hamilton, but the show doesn’t frame them the way such “important women in powerful/fascinating/history-changing men’s lives” roles usually are.  For starters, neither gets a “Who is she?” scene where Hamilton is captivated by the ravishing beauty across the room, where she becomes an object for his gaze.  In fact, both women’s first encounters with Hamilton are told from their perspectives.  If anything, he’s their object, but by this point, we’ve of course gotten to know Hamilton as his own dynamic character.

But in both potential love connections, it’s the woman’s thoughts, feelings, and impressions that drive the scene.  Eliza’s “Helpless” is fun, bouncy, and lovesick.  It may earn some side-eye for the extreme head-over-heels-ness of Eliza’s instant attraction to Hamilton, but it’s important to remember that in those days, courtship/marriage wasn’t necessarily a realm in which a woman got any say, and so it’s not for nothing that Eliza sets her sights Hamilton.  Although she knows the ball is never really in her court and her hopes depend on Hamilton’s inclinations and her father’s permission, she wants him anyway, unabashedly.  Even simple lines like, “I am so into you,” and, later, “That boy is mine,” showcase Eliza’s desire rather than her desirability.

Then, there’s Angelica’s “Satisfied,” which is incredible.  Like Eliza’s number, we see the meeting through the woman’s eyes:  Angelica connects with Hamilton immediately, electrically, but she sizes up the situation between them just as quickly.  In a dazzling cascade of lyrics, she runs down the list of reasons why she and Hamilton can’t be together.  There’s her role within society and her family:  “I’m a girl in a world in which / My only job is to marry rich. / My father has no sons, so I’m the one / Who has to social climb for one.”  Books, TV, and movies train us to think that marrying for money is always about greed, but for Angelica, it’s duty; to do what’s required of her, she has to give up what she wants most.  Plus, there’s her own status as a wealthy Schuyler sister and the pragmatic understanding that it’s a motivating factor in Hamilton’s interest.  Most of all, there’s Eliza’s clear attraction to Hamilton and Angelica’s devotion to her sister’s happiness over her own, a trait that endures throughout the show.

Apart from these phenomenal numbers, I like that we’ve already met both Angelica and Eliza by the time they encounter Hamilton.  Several scenes prior to the winter’s ball where two Schuyler sisters meet and fall for him, we’re introduced to them on their own, with sister Peggy in tow, and see the mercurial roil of pre-Revolution New York through them.  Angelica in particular has been keeping abreast of patriot publications, which she consumes eagerly but not blindly – she states her intentions to “compel [Thomas Jefferson] to include women in the sequel” regarding the innate equality of “all men.”  The men are shaping the country, but it’s not theirs alone.

Favorite Characters: Randall Brown (The Hour)

Back during Capaldi Fall, I made my great appreciation for Randall known in no uncertain terms.  A simply gorgeous character, wonderfully written and exquisitely played.  If you want to get technical, I’ve said my piece on Randall.  However, rewatching The Hour around the end of summer brought my love for the character flooding back, and now there’s no getting around it:  Randall needs his own separate write-up.

Randall Brown, the new Head of News brought in to oversee The Hour (the in-show news program, not the actual BBC period-drama,) doesn’t appear on the surface to be what anyone wants.  His OCD behaviors cause him to “fiddle with things,” and the ‘50s weren’t exactly a sympathetic time for anyone dealing with mental health issues.  His staff members gawk uncomfortably when he reorganizes thumbtacks or fastidiously straightens chairs – Bel goes so far as to ask Lix, “What have they sent us?”  (Yep, not “who,” but “what.”  Yikes.)  His general demeanor is somber, acutely-focused; when he drops by for a taping, one can’t help but feel they’re being graded.  He isn’t content to enjoy the critical praise the program has received, instead keeping an eye on a competing show and pondering how The Hour could be improved, even “fixed.”  His ideas on how to go about this don’t mess around, and in the early days of his reign, most of his news team seems to be trying to get around him rather than work with him.

Producer Bel doesn’t like his less-than-satisfied opinion of the program, and she really doesn’t appreciate his unilateral decisions, like when he rehires Freddie without running it by her.  When writer/presenter Freddie does rejoin The Hour, he sometimes regards Randall as a troll at the gate keeping him from telling the provocative stories he wants to tell (although, in truth, Randall lets them push the envelope pretty far.)  Writer Lix is uneasy with Randall’s presence for personal reasons – they have a complicated history together, and since he arrived, he’s been poking at days she’d have rather left in the past.  And virtually everyone on the team starts covering for presenter Hector – the face of the program, famous and charismatic but notoriously unreliable – when Randall makes it clear that he won’t tolerate Hector’s continued unprofessional behavior.

But all these impressions don’t quite get at Randall.  Yes, he’s strict, he doesn’t allow free reign, and he doesn’t think The Hour is the pinnacle of news programming.  Yes, he’s unable to let matters lie (as he tells Lix, “We dwell on things we cannot bear to leave undone.”)  This is all true, but that’s not a bad thing.  He’s stringent and dissatisfied because he wants what’s best for The Hour – he sees its raw potential and wants to make it better.  When he doesn’t let his reporters don’t run about unchecked, it’s because he’s been playing the news game for a long time, and he has a good spidey sense about just how far they can push things, what they’ll be to get away with, and what would get them shut down.  Instead of saying, “No,” to a story outright, he’s far more likely to say, “Not like that,” or even just, “Not yet.” 

He places high expectations on his team, in large part because he understands them all so well.  He may seem inaccessible or emotional at first, but Randall is actually deeply, almost painfully empathetic.  He has an uncanny ability to get at the heart of someone’s behavior, often recognizing his own destructive qualities in others.  He gives off a sense that he wants to help his team outrun the personal demons that will drag down their work and, as with The Hour itself, continually pushes them to be better.  Would we were all so lucky to have a boss like Randall.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001, R)

Expect a few Hedwig-related posts in the coming days.  There’s plenty that I love about this off-Broadway-show-turned-cult-film (we’re looking at the movie today,) and the murkiness of its trans representation warrants discussion.  For now, though, we’re starting simple with a review of this bizarre but highly-enjoyable film.

What you need to know:  Hedwig is an East German rocker currently touring America’s nationwide chain of Bilgewater restaurants.  She was born male but underwent gender reassignment surgery in order to marry her American G.I. beau and get to the U.S.; no time to unpack all this today, but it’s coming, believe me.  Unfortunately, the operation was bungled, leaving her with an “angry inch” (also the name of her band) in the nether regions.  This history is rolled out gradually over the course of her wildly-inappropriate restaurant gigs, along with her past with rock god Tommy Gnosis, a former collaborator who won fame from Hedwig’s music.

So, yeah.  Not something you see every day.  Hedwig is wild and raucous, with a campy sense of humor and a flair for the outrageous.  Hedwig herself is a piece of work – her songwriting and singing talent is undeniable, and there’s no doubt that she’s been kicked around far more than her fair share, but she’s also vain, demanding, and vindictive.  She has a powerful need to be the prettiest, she requires nothing less than the audience’s full attention, and she lets her grievances against Tommy make most of her decisions for her.  Still, she’s an absolute hoot and imminently watchable, and the film follows her journey that, at its core, is to find some peace for herself.

The music is just phenomenally good.  Penned by Stephen Trask (who, incidentally, also composed the film score for The Station Agent,) these are genuinely gritty rock numbers that don’t sound like anything else you hear in musical theatre.  The songs don’t tell the story in the traditional musical sense – there are no characters bursting into song to advance the plot.  Instead, they’re generally framed as performances, with the odd dream sequence or music-video-style tangent here and there.  They still provide a lot of insight into the story, however, because Hedwig writes extensively from her own experiences.  Through her performances, we get her feelings on love, gender, her origins, and her ever-present sense that she has her feet in two different camps and is never entirely one thing or the other.

In the cast, the main attraction is John Cameron Mitchell as Hedwig.  He created the show, originated the role off-Broadway, and has played it multiple times onstage since then, so there’s no one who knows the hard-edged rock diva quite as well as him.  Michael Pitt, who gave us a wonderfully creepy Mason Verger on Hannibal, really works as Tommy, and I just love Miriam Shor in the role of Yitzhak, Hedwig’s backup singer and long-suffering boyfriend?/husband?/something or other.

Warnings

Thematic elements, sexual content (including offscreen hand jobs and oodles of innuendo,) swearing, and drinking.