La Cage aux Folles: a different angle
30 Jun 2024 - Photos by David Hou

And so what if I love each sparkle and each bangle
Why not try to see things from a different angle

While I thoroughly enjoyed and admired the Stratford Festival production of La Cage aux Folles the first time around, I had to admit that I regretted not seeing Steve Ross (Assassins) in the role of Albin/Zaza. I had it from reliable sources that it was a powerful and spectacular performance. A friend who saw opening night claimed that Ross "ripped off the roof three times." The night I attended shortly after opening, an understudy went on and while he was very, very good, the roof stayed on. So when I was invited back specifically to see Ross in the role, I jumped at the chance. The worst that could happen is that I would enjoy myself again and leave happily humming "I Am What I Am," delightfully blinded by the neon candy-coloured sets and dazzling costumes on the dazzling Les Cagelles. 

Arriving at the theatre, there were two surprises. Scanning the "For This Performance" list to make sure that Ross was going on, I discovered that he was but that there was also substitution that intrigued: Michael Devon Brown (Something Rotten!, Frankenstein Revived, Spamalot) who is usually a swing, would be going on as Hanna, the dominatrix La Cagelle who wields a whip with finesse. It was eerily like a sexual fantasy I hadn't articulated. The second surprise, which shouldn't have been a surprise, was that the audience for this Wednesday afternoon matinee, was predominantly elderly and majoritively, at least outwardly, straight. The former proved to be a jolting and dramatic addition to the proceedings, the latter immaterial. Twenty days into its run, what was a slick fun musical had evolved into an exhilaratingly well-lubed machine.

When Sean Arbuckle (Casey and Diana) as Georges sauntered onstage, all casual smarm and smiles, to begin his MC duties, the crowd perked up immediately. When he hit the line "Keep your hands where we can see them," the audience roared. They were eager to be titillated and to be part of the action. One could feel  Arbuckle's   energy level soar as he seduced the audience into the palm of his hand. The jokes are rather hoary and based around gender bending but Arbuckle landed each one. He was perfectly correct as he sang, "It's slightly forties and a little bit new wave." Slightly smutty but it won't frighten the horses. I would still like to attend a performance that was late night with a predominantly gay audience, because book writer Harvey Fierstein (I Was Better Last Night, Hairspray Live!, Kinky Boots, Kull the Conqueror, Murder She Wrote, Dr Jekyll and Ms Hyde) and lyricist Jerry Herman (Mame) have studded the text with delicious gay innuendo. When Ross sang, "When Albin is tucked away and Zaza is here," accompanied but a subtle but explicit gesture, only a few pink pockets of the audience laughed.

Ross is incredible. Albin is warm, bitchy and possessed of a volcanic vulnerability, while Zaza is a diva with a heart of gold. His vocals do "raise the roof" but there is such care in his phrasing and modulation that it avoids bombast and serves the character. We've all heard "I Am What I Am" a thousand times but by the time Ross brought it to a shattering climax, it was revelatory. Ross seizes the material and knows just when to mince and when to massacre our emotions. The interplay between Ross and Arbuckle is delightful and simmers with that heat that only longterm couples can generate. And it is gratifyingly gay, lingering on jokes about bunk beds, Salomé's veils and the word "heterosexual" as an epithet. While Zaza and Georges onstage may be secure and dynamic, in public the two avoid PDAs (La Cage aux Folles is set in 1978). There is a heartbreaking scene in the lead-in to "Song on the Sand," where Albin rejects Georges's attempts to hold hands, but their fingers keep drifting towards each other until they are entwined. It is charming.

A second viewing amplified many thoughts from the first—James Daly's matinee idol charisma carries him through an impossibly petulant role, Starr Domingue (Something Rotten!, Red Velvet, Dixon Road, Mary Poppins) is a warm scheming avenger, and Sara-Jeanne Hosie (Peter Pan's Final Flight, Lil' Red Robin Hood, The Wizard of Oz, Falsettos) turns downtrodden into showstopper, somehow anchoring La Cage aux Folles with a dynamic diva center gives space for the secondary roles to shine—as well as a new respect for what director Tom Allison (Rent, Mary Poppins, Killjoys, Elegies, Ragtime) has accomplished. On one level La Cage aux Folles is a blatant attempt by the creators to make gay protagonists palatable and relatable. This production accomplishes that by wrapping its message in eye-popping glitter, astounding dancing by Les Cagelles, just enough titillation and innuendo, catchy melodies, and unrelenting exuberant energy. 

But on another, and more crucial, level it is a love story. Of conquering one's fears of what the world thinks and finding a Prince Charming, even if he is in a designer gown or onstage in a seedy cabaret. This production takes the suggestion of a different angle seriously, as Georges urges, "Here at La Cage we live life - how should I put it? On angle! Not to worry. You'll soon get your bearings. Just take a deep breath, a sip of champagne and open your eyes." I wasn't the only one with tears of joy in my eyes blurring the final kiss into soft focus. I wasn't the only one humming "I Am What I Am" and feeling it in my core. And I'm sure I wasn't the only one whose loins were stirred by Hanna.