La Cage Aux Folles: it's rather gaudy but it's also rather grand
10 Jun 2024 - Photos by David Hou

The smarmy, but glittery, host regales us with licentious promises of what we are about to experience at La Cage. There are a few hoary jokes and a lot of of innuendo before he bursts into song, "It's rather gaudy but it's also rather grand." As Les Cagelles descend from their platform to strut on the stage, it is candy-coloured neon gaudy, and most definitely grand. This version of La Cage Aux Folles is an extravagant family-friendly musical that may titillate but is a long way from sleazy. After 16 seasons of Drag Race, drag is no longer shocking, it is an art form that all of us are fluent in appreciating. And judging. Fortunately these queens can sashay. And strut. And execute athletic complicated dance moves without coming untucked or breaking a sweat. Or a heel. They are quite fabulous. In a pivotal scene they appear dressed as exotic birds. The implication is that of birds of prey but, with all the sequins and feathers and gams, they are simply glorious. The terror they strike in the heart of the misguided homophobe is well deserved. Everyone else just applauds their plumage.

La Cage Aux Folles is set in 1978, was first performed in 1983, and is now getting a spectacular production in 2024. What becomes intriguing is how each era views crossdressing vs female impersonation vs drag vs trans. Was trans even a concept let alone a letter in LGBTQ+ in 1978? What is consistent is the hesitation long term couple and socially well positioned Albin and Georges feel when holding hands in public, while politicians attacking drag queens and gays for political gain will apparently never go out of style for the unstylish. Some evolve, some don't. What rings breathtakingly true in this production, is the sense of a bubble, of creating a safe world of our own. Sean Arbuckle (Casey and Diana) as Georges, loves his son (from a misguided experiment with a, the word he uses as a gentle epithet, "heterosexual") so much that he is willing to set the plot in motion by shunting his long-term love, and the son's main caregiver, aside, to appease the right wing parents of the sons fiancé. But is there ever any doubt that his love for Albin will triumph?

It is only afterwards that one marvels that an entire cathartic musical can thrive on one meagre plotline. There are some secondary scenarios at play (after all how could a gay nightclub not be teeming with melodramatic intrigue?). Will Jacob the butler who prefers to be a maid but dreams of being centerstage get his big break? Will Francis the stage manager survive his romance with the whip-wielding Hanna? Will the evil right wing politician have a change of heart after being saved by the lovable drag queens? That those threads are extremely slight is immaterial, because the threat to the romance between Georges and Albin is exceedingly consequential. We so rarely see an unstable stable relationship between an older (ie: not ingénues) established couple. Let alone a gay couple. The night I saw La Cage Aux Folles the understudy, Aidan deSalaiz, went on as Albin, and he and Arbuckle were magic together. Small familiar gestures created a sense of a lifetime spent comfort or gentle conflict, which considerably raised the stakes when conflict erupts. 

Georges runs the La Cage and Les Cagelles (and Albin) with an iron fist disguised as a limp wrist. Arbuckle is a marvel as he morphs from leering MC, to doting father, to frazzled husband, to duplicitous but adoring lover. Everyone dreams of being looked at the way that Arbuckle's Georges looks at Albin. It certainly goes beyond an impresario's affection for his star. deSalaiz's Albin is more fragile than the production implies, making his transformation into Zaza for the big "I Am What I Am" number all the more remarkable. deSalaiz was wearing a tensor bandage and had a slight limp the night I attended. While the bandage was visible through his tights, no-one commented or corrected, which is exactly what Zaza/Albin would demand. There is no judgment at La Cage and little blemishes or hindrances are simply to be overcome or ignored. The show must go on. Whether it was an artistic choice or an actual injury I will never know (unless it factors into the production when I see it with Steve Ross who usually plays Albin) but it was a beautiful metaphor that emphasized a central theme.

"I Am What I Am" is the big number, so big that it is a queer anthem that we will hear endlessly in various versions throughout Pride, but this production has found other gems in the score by Jerry Herman (Mame). It is a basic score with three simple but catchy melodies entwining and reprising with variations. Old-fashioned in comparison to many musicals, but perfect for an old-fashioned love story, which is actually revolutionary because it is two men. The music needs to be comfort food to keep from startling the horses. Even with that buffer, in past productions that I have seen, when Georges and Albin kiss, the audience has tittered. In this production the audience roared approval. Director Thom Allison (Rent, Mary Poppins, Killjoys, Elegies, Ragtime) writes in his programme notes that he thinks this production is about family. The sense of chosen family being crucial comes through clearly, but what Allison has really emphasized is a paean to enduring romantic love. Setting it in this gaudy, gleefully tacky world of gay glitter and sequins, just makes it all the more endearing.

Book writer Harvey Fierstein (I Was Better Last Night, Hairspray Live!, Kinky Boots, Kull the Conqueror, Murder She Wrote, Dr Jekyll and Ms Hyde) is still probably best known for Torch Song Trilogy which brought gay to Broadway as other than subtext, but which was also deeply concerned with family. Fierstein fills the script with quips and gay banter that breezes along hilariously, but breezes over the actual wounds inflicted. Fortunately James Daley as the son is not only tall, blond and matinee idol gorgeous, he also has enough charm to make a character who is insufferable acceptable.  Sara-Jeanne Hosie (Peter's Final Flight, Lil Red Robin Hood, The Wizard of Oz, Falsettos)  and Juan Chioran have only physical quirks with which to express their characters but manage to do so with comic flair. La Cage Aux Folles is as much a farce as it is a musical. The first act stretches everyone's vocal cords and leg extensions, but the second act features misunderstandings, drag as disguise, and a show-stopping slapstick tour de force with pornographic plate props. Chris Vergara as Jacob garners as many laughs with a hip pout or by raising an overarched eyebrow as Fierstein does with one-liners.

Le Cagelles may not be the hardest working gals in Saint Tropez, but Eric Abel, George Absi, David Ball, Josh Doig, Jordan Goodridge and David Andrew Reid, certainly are. The dance numbers (Camero Carver) are fast, furious and, particularly in the case of tap shoes and flippers, witty. And the costumes (David Boechler) are spectacular, each scene topping the last. I'm not just writing that because I was seated next to the head of costume design for the festival and she told me to (she did). It is sincere. Bob Mackie would be proud. She also let slip an intriguing detail. The make-up design is not by the festival's resident maquillagers, Dino Dillo was brought in to create authentic dragtastic stylings. An attempt to avoid cultural appropriation? Yes, the drag, the music, the fabulousness, is lifted wholesale from the gay aesthetic. But it was done in an attempt to reach the mainstream and change minds. Change hearts. Which La Cage Aux Folles did. That work still needs to be done but this production has the freedom to not be a polemic, it just has to entertain. And entertain it does. A big gay love story that, whatever you are, leaves you joyfully singing "I Am What I Am."