Hallowe’en is often referred to as “queer Christmas”, and for good reason. It’s the time of year when the veil is thinnest and boundaries get blurred; where we revel in what we are otherwise told to fear; where folks of all genders and presentations have free reign to embrace the camp, the subversive and the flamboyant. S.P.U.D.S (Strange People Undertake a Drag Show) a delightful showcase of local drag I had the pleasure of attending this week, wears that ethos on its bloody, sequinned sleeve. From the moment our first act, Calamity Devil, stepped onstage, paying homage to Freddy Krueger in a rhinestoned knitted gown and gyrating over a sleeping ‘victim’ made of cardboard boxes, I knew I was in for both tricks and treats.
Hosted by Oxfordshire Drag Collective’s Cairo and Mabel Syrup, the line-up was a feast of classic horror homage from new and established acts on the Oxford drag scene. Calamity’s second-act transformation into a down-and-dirty Carrie White - Carrie Off-White? - was a poppy, high-energy romp (although I would have loved to see the infamous blood dousing rather than having that action take place offstage). Cairo’s performance as Scream’s iconic Ghostface (complete with bedazzled cape) was no mean feat to pull off. Though I was a little frustrated at the lack of a reveal (the bread and butter of any masked killer storyline), her ability to use nothing but body language to turn on a dime from deranged killer to video vixen is the mark of a born performer. Meanwhile, Sera Tonin imbued her lip sync tribute to Death Becomes Her with an (appropriately) death-defying physicality, and her moody, gothic interpretation of Matthew Perryman Jones ‘Living in the Shadows’ was a nicely sombre contrast to the night’s more comedy focused acts.
Special guest Astro Axolotl brought true production value with their outfit, an airbrushed, powdery orange amphibian get-up recalling their namesake by way of Audrey II and a deadly spore. Special credit must be given too to the fact that they were the only live singer of the night; ideally, I would have liked a little more cohesion between the look and the act, but their quirkily filthy ode to undead romance, ‘I Don’t Care if You’re a Zombie (I Think You’re Hot)’ and their anthem to *ahem* ‘international love’ (whose title I will not repeat because I would very much like to keep my job) undeniably brought the house down.
The night’s top standouts, though, both hail from the realm of burlesque. The Dumb Belle’s Stranger Things-inspired performance was a knockout. Removing layer after layer beneath a cocoon of black translucent Isis wings before finally emerging clad in only a pair of pasties and a thong designed to resemble a Demogorgon, they truly turned the crowd upside-down.
Performance of the evening though must go to Mabel Syrup’s gruesomely sexy ‘striptease’ to ‘Under My Skin’, which was for my money the night’s most imaginative and organic marriage of soundtrack and concept. Her witty and grisly take on burlesque standards struck a perfect balance between sultry and stomach churning, the classic coy removal of a single glove giving way to gory muscle tissue with genuinely wince-inducing strain. She is also a consummate host; though both Syrup and Cairo were excellent in their own right at maintaining the energy of the crowd, there’s something about Syrup’s Mae West-style winking repartee and knack for improv that dazzles even with half her face removed.
What really made the night special was the feeling of game camaraderie that local drag seems to uniquely foster. The audience gave as good as they got with the genial air of someone cheering on a friend - which, in some cases, they were. Drag as an art form has exploded in popularity, but with that comes an incentive to cater to the mainstream that often results in a narrower (and often whiter and cis-er) perception of what drag can be.
You’re far more likely to find performers with a unique point of view in your local queer bar than under the stage lights of Drag Race, and it’s only with the support of their community that that point of view can reach its full potential. I’d be lying if I said that S.P.U.D.S was the most polished of productions, but polish is nothing without heart, and S.P.U.D.S served that up to me still beating.
