If like me you felt nothing but a little uncomfortable when hairy male followers of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” felt compelled to drag on their girlfriends’ underwear, you might have shared my initial misgivings about “Hedwig and the Angry Inch”, but two minutes in it’s obvious that this is a completely different beast- Hedwig him/herself, for example is a sublime creation, poignantly played by his/her creator, John Cameron Mitchell, firing killer one-liners and capturing the character’s sadness and dignity even while delivering an infamous “carwash” to unsuspecting audience members- (has to be seen to be believed!) There can’t be many other movies that invoke an unholy mash-up of Plato, Lou Reed and the Tina Turner and still communicate a coherent message…AND THE SONGS REALLY ROCK!!!!!!!! (…and I didn’t even mention Yitzhak, the most unconvincing boyfriend ever…)
Somewhere between glam-rock tantrum, breakup spiral and cabaret revenge fantasy, this thing is such a weird little mongrel that it takes a while to realise quite how much it gets away with. John Cameron Mitchell writes, directs and throws himself into Hedwig so completely that even when she is prickly, vain and a total pain in the arse, you still want to stay in her orbit.
The setup is ridiculous in the best way: a near-forgotten song stylist slogging through seafood-chain gigs while seething at the rock star who nicked her songs. But beneath all the glitter, bile and eyeliner there is real hurt. The Origin of Love earns every bit of its reputation, and Miriam Shor is brilliant as Yitzhak, landing the laughs while carrying a lot of the film’s sadness on the side.
I was with it almost all the way. The final stretch reaches for transcendence and does wobble a bit when it gets there. Still, it is raw, funny, bruised and exactly the sort of beautiful mess I’m glad exists.