I'm in a musical theatre mood lately, and so I thought this week I'd take a stab and writing about some movie versions of musicals.
HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH is a 1991 film written and directed by John Cameron Mitchell from his 1998 musical, with lyrics and compositions by Stephen Trask. It tells the story of the genderqueer East German Hedwig Robinson over two timelines: in the present she's a rock composer and performer trying to get credit for the songs she wrote that were stolen by her one time lover. And as she follows his tour from place to place, performing in restaurants, she tells us the story of her life.
One element that I absolutely love about the film is the opportunities it finds in the contradiction between who Hedwig is a performer and where she's performing. The character is a goddamn star, someone who absolutely could walk into Madison Square Garden and light it up. But instead most of the film we find her playing the equivalent of Denny's and Pizza Hut, places where there sometimes isn't even a spot for her and her band to stand.
On the surface this choice feels familiar. It's a trope of so many rock star movies, the star who should be able to have it all is stuck in the shitholes of the world performing for drunks.
But Mitchell refuses to script it like that. Whether she's got her back up against a salad bar at a place where people are walking out or she's climbing over the tops of booths at a Jewish retirement home diner, Hedwig stays in the moment and engaged with the audience.
Without ever beating us over the head, that choice tells us a lot about her and her point of view on the world. First of all, she's a professional. She's also brave in a completely undramatic way. Many of these groups are unfriendly at least in part, and she does her thing anyway.
And lastly, she shows a fundamental respect for people. They can give up on her but she's not going to write them off--not only in the sense that she's still going to give them the show she agreed to, but she's still going to expose herself and share with them her life story. She's still going to give them the chance to be open and good.
We learn who a character is and we come to love them by way of the choices they make given the situations they confront (and create). The choice to place Hedwig in absurd settings is a great vehicle for humor. But it also becomes a quiet way of getting us on her side. We love her not because she "toughs it out", as in other rock films, but because she doesn't think of it like that at all. We love her because she loves what she's doing no matter who it's for, and also because on some level she shows a kind of magnanimity, "big heartedness", for them, whether they care about her or not.
