Theater Review: Bebe Zahara Benet's Creature

So, I have seen Bebe Zahara Benet's Creature, I believe, four times now. There has only been once that I haven't seen the show during a run. Now, full disclosure, Bebe is one of my best friends. I have known her for five years, and I have been a fan since she was working a working class dyke bar on University Avenue (The Townhouse) in St. Paul, MN. I was in the bar the night she announced she was going to be on a new reality show called RuPaul's Drag Race.

Well, as y'all know she went on to win the first season of that show. That's my girl.

What has always impressed me about Kudi (that's Bebe's given name) is that Kudi is an artist. From the clothing he designs to his performances as Bebe....he constructs his work with the utmost integrity, commits himself to constant improvement, and lets us have it every time.

Last night Miss Bebe gave us a victoire!

Each time Creature is mounted it has been deepened and expanded. It's now a full on 360 degree experience. I thought the last version of the show, which I saw in the beginning of June was amazing (and after which I had an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction....I popped a squat on the dance floor and blew out the back of my shorts....no such mishaps last night though my mind was blown)!

Last night's Creature was OVAH! Not only were the dancers on point, the vocalists letting us have it, and Bebe in proper form....she added a new Egyptian element to the show including a cadre of fierce belly dancers that let us have it let us have it let us have IT!

Oops she did it again but even better than before.

Do yourself a favor....Creature will be playing every Friday for the next month at XL Nightclub in New York, which is located on 42nd Street between 10th and 11th avenues. GO AND SEE THIS SHOW!

I will be seeing it for the fifth time.

PS And do not fail to oooh and ahhh at Eddie Carrington and Roger Turner, Bebe's principle dancers. Those boys do some things in a loin cloth to make me want to get down right Serengeti up in there.

Theater Review: Jomama Jones

Last night, I hopped off the E train in SoHo and was greeted by a slap directly to the forehead by Old Man Winter. As my brain crystallized and froze over, I whispered a prayer for my boy Kenyon Farrow. The prayer went something like this:

"Dear Baby Jesus, please let this show be good tonight. I know the ticket is free. And I know I would walk across lava to get some face time with Kenyon. But I have lost three toes due to this arctic air, and if this show ain't no good, I am going to chew off three of Kenyon's and sew them on my feet. Hey Glory. Hallelujah. Amen."

I walked into the SoHo Repertory Theater, into a narrow hallway, which was packed on both sides by bundled up theater-goers. I was greeted by an adorable Asian woman that looked like she'd been molested by Ziggy Stardust. At the same time, I saw Kenyon, Asian Ziggy gave us a card on which to write a wish, and Kenyon and I sat down to obey her interstellar command.

Shortly thereafter, I noticed the sign for the bar, and Kenyon noticed the sign for the bathroom (he is much more evolved than I am). A few moments later, we were climbing the stairs and about to grab our seats, when I grabbed Kenyon and said, "I might be tripping, but I am fairly certain that the gentleman seated in the waiting area is Djola Branner, a friend of mine from Minneapolis that teaches in Amherst, MA."

It had been a few years since I'd seen Djola, so I erred on the side of not feeling foolish by screaming his name and having it turn out not to be him. Kenyon and I went to find our seats, and who should appear but my friends Christian and Mark. Immediately, my expectations for the show were raised. Kenyon has impeccable taste, but Christian has flawless taste. Between the two, I was expecting this performer to get up on stage and shoot rainbows out of her eyebrows.

Waiting for the show to begin, Kenyon and I ended up in the last row (in a very small theater, so the view was perfect), and into the theater walks the possibly Djola Branner. Well, the only open seats were right next to me, and as the possible Djola climbed over me, I squinted at him and said, "Ain't you Djola?" He looked at me a little startled and said, "Yes, I'm Djola." And I said, "Lord it's Brandon from Minneapolis."

Right there we had ourselves a reunion. It was fantastic. Djola thought I was still living in Oakland, and I had to let him know that I'd been in NYC for almost two years (way to keep up, Djola). We loved up on each other for a minute, and then the show started (beforehand, I found out that Djola knew the performer, who had spent some time in Minneapolis as well).

From the minute the lights dimmed and the curtains were drawn back, I knew that I was about to be changed for good.

Onto the stage walked Jomama Jones and the Peaches. I had to rub my eyes, and I almost made a collect call to Heaven, because when Jomama took the stage I thought, for a minute, that Miss Lena Horne had faked her own death and was now doing independent theater in lower Manhattan.

Jomama Jones, a character created and lived by Daniel Alexander Jones, was everything that I didn't know I needed. Combining original music, dance, storytelling, theater, lots of campy drama, and beautifully poignant moments, Jomama Jones took us on a journey that was never overtly anything but was subversively genderqueer, all about liberation for people of color, woman powerful, and responsibly communal. It would have been easy for this show to bludgeon the audience, instead, it gently and firmly carried the audience along with it, waking up the best in each of us, and helping us to see each other as a united community.,

Jomama Jones is the best in everyone of us.

Helga Davis and Sonja Perryman were the primary backup vocalists and co-performers along with Jomama, and let me tell you that when these women sang NOTHING else existed in my world. Helga has one of those voices that is vaguely reminiscent of Tina Turner but only in the way that it crosses over into the "traditionally" masculine, snatches you up by the back of your neck, and makes you call out to Jesus. And Sonja's voice was soul sexy smooth, like warm honey on cornbread and fresh maple syrup straight out of the boiler. These women not only sang, they LIVED.

It was a blessing to see Jomama Jones last night and to experience the beauty of that character, the storytelling, and the amazing cast and musicians that made it all come alive. For Tamar-kali and for Jomama Jones, I owe Kenyon Farrow a deep debt.

Thank you Jomama (Daniel), Sonja, Helga, and the rest of the cast. You have a forever fan right here. And how wonderful to get to share the show with an audience that included new and old friends. One love y'all.