The Kinsey Sicks' takes on contemporary gay culture are smart, savage and very, very funny

By Robert Nesti
Bay Windows
August 9, 2001
The Kinsey Sicks at the Jungle Cabaret at Tropical Joe's, Provincetown, through September 10.

If Woody Allen conceived of a drag act it would no doubt resemble The Kinsey Sicks. Like Allen, the San Francisco-based quartet is smart, funny, irreverent, and musically assured. (Allen, you may remember, plays the clarinet.) And they honor the tradition of Borscht Belt humor that, ironically enough, puts them firmly in the mainstream of American comedy. If Ed Sullivan were alive today he'd no doubt book them on his show.

And you are likely to see them on Rosie O'Donnell (and other such shows) in the next few months since, after they complete their run in Provincetown, which concludes on September 10, they are off to New York where their new revue, appropriately named "Dragapella," opens in the new cabaret space above Studio 54.

What the Kinsey Sicks does so well is prove how easily sharp satire and low humor can play together. One moment they are skewering the Yuppiefication of the East Village with the skillful harmonies of the Andrew Sisters; the next, one of them is likely to pull a carrot out of his crotch and offer it to someone in the front row to take a bite. ("Always obey your drag queen," Rachel [Ben Schatz] warns the audience early on, "especially if she has a microphone and no boundaries.") Where else can you see a show where Lesley Gore's '60's hit "I Will Follow Him" becomes "I Will Swallow Him" or asks the inevitable question "Titanic: Why Must Celine Go On"? They can be sweet, they can be nasty, but they are invariably funny and appealing -- it's difficult really not to fall hard for them.

If the group has a godmother it is no doubt Bette Midler, whose stage persona they've shrewdly reconfigured as their own. It was, indeed, because of Midler that they formed in the first place: in 1993 a group of friends dressed in 1940s drag and went to her concert in San Francisco where, much to their surprise, they were the only drag queens in attendance. Afterward they discovered they could sing, and an 'a capella,' or as they call it a "dragapella" (a word they've trademarked--you can see there's a lawyer in the group) was born. From their first performances they were enthusiastically received, and a cult quickly grew around the group, which took the tight harmonies of a group like the Flirtations and blended them with the satiric punch of the new generation drag performers like Varla Jean Merman.

Surviving changes

The personnel have changed over the years: one of the original members left the group, another died (and they honor his memory with a beautifully expressed ode called "Begona's Song"). Today they are comprised of three original members Schatz (Rachel), Maurice Kelly (Trixie), Irwin Keller (Winnie), and newcomer Chris Dilley (Trampolina). In their hour-long show their various characterizations are nicely delineated: Rachel is crass and man-hungry; Trixie is shrewdly sophisticated (like Lauren Bacall in "How to Marry a Millionaire"); Winnie is the wisecracking Eve Arden of the group; while Trampolina is sweet and innocent. They've been compared to the Golden Girls, but a better fit is the four women from "Sex and the City."

Most of their material is written by Schatz, the Harvard-educated lawyer who traded his Brooks Brothers suit for something off the rack from the Limited when he left law to become a performer full-time this past year. His song parodies and original material are every bit as original and funny as those Gerard Alessandrini has written for "Forbidden Broadway" over the years. But instead of skewering Broadway personalities, Shatz takes on gay culture.

This is apparent from the onset of their hour-long set, where they offer a biting overview of gay culture, first presenting gays as "gentle, loving people," then in the ensuing verses as vicious, sexually compulsive, materialistic, and shallow. While the words do bite, there is also a note of recognition in the audience. They take on such topics as gay marriage ("Locked out of the Chapel of Love") to AIDS cocktails ("AZT" sung to the tune of the Jackson's "ABC"). "I ran on down to Walgreens/To pick up all my pills/My viral load is tiny/Compared to all these bills," they sing. One of their funniest bits offers a Jewish mother's approach to life sung to the tune of "Don't Worry, Be Happy," here changed to "Don't Be Happy... Worry." And one of the musical highlights is when Keller pulls out a clarinet and offers musical accompaniment to a traditional Yiddish song. Suddenly, the Kinsey Sicks performance becomes a klezmer concert.

In fact you'll never know what you'll get at their current show because, from the more than 80 songs they've written over the years, they change the show weekly; that makes repeat visits worth making. So if you're in Provincetown in the ensuing weeks, a visit to the Kinseys is mandatory for your entertainment pleasure--they're summer camp at its best.