Women We Love: Dame Edna

Or shall I say "the late Dame Edna"? Word has come that Dame Edna Everage passed away at age 89. Virginia Graham, Patricia Routledge as Hyacinth Bucket and Dame Edna have always been my favorite "women so far-out they can't possibly be women". And one was not.

Dame Edna barely admitted to being Barry Humphries, the Australian comedian who created her in the 1950s. Or was it the other way around? At her death, Dame Edna's estate released an obituary of Barry Humphries that all us possums (as she liked to call her adoring subjects) will enjoy:

Drag goes back in my memory, from crazy Uncle Miltie clomping in heels across 1950s television to the fun of seeing Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon dolled up as flappers (albeit to escape Chicago gangsters) in 1959's "Some Like it Hot". Of course some of form of drag has been around for ages, and this post is not about drag history. What's clear is drag is now celebrated and enjoyed in popular culture as never before. And like everything fun, from Elvis to deep-fried Twinkies, there are those who say it's bad for you.

She charmed everyone...

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing a local production of "The Legend of Georgia McBride". Georgia is the drag persona of an affable, straight young man whose not just bad but terrible Elvis impersonation is getting him nowhere. Through plot twists only a playwright could concoct he is forced to replace a drag performer doing Edith Piaf and ends up, after a lot of determined hard work, creating the beloved Georgia McBride (with a little Elvis thrown in).

Georgia and Company

As could be expected, it's a fun show with many laughs and over-the-top routines. There are heartfelt revelations as the two long-time drag performers tell us how much drag means to them. Our hero struggles with why he avoids telling his wife what he's really doing and questions should he even be doing it. I couldn't help thinking this is a play for our time. 

Unlike Ru Paul who seamlessly morphs from Ru Paul to RU PAUL, I never thought of Dame Edna as anything but a delightful, eccentric grande dame, someone I would love to be if I dared and had lost all sense of dressing tastefully. Barry never entered my mind.

Barry as Barry and Dame Edna as herself