Drag Double Features (Pride pt. VI)

Some Like it Hot

The Queen

As we near the end of Pride double features (for now), I was unsure of which direction to turn. There are so many different avenues of LGBTQ+ cinema to go down, so many perspectives and intersections to explore. But given the sudden rise in governmental bodies banning children from drag shows as opposed to doing anything about the children being murdered in school, I thought it was time to celebrate the art, the life, and the magic of drag. There are many different types of drag: drag queens, drag kings, bio queens, androgyny/genderfuck drag, pageant queens, goth queens, camp queens, club queens, fluid drag, skag drag, and the list goes on. Drag is for everyone: men, women, trans and nonbinary people, elderly people, disabled people, people who perform on public stages, people who perform in private, and yes, drag is for children too. Drag isn’t about changing people, drag isn’t about indoctrinating people with anything beyond style and incredible party remixes. The art of drag has been around for centuries, it was required, in fact for most theatre back in the hay-day of Shakespeare. Gender-bending, exaggerating features, impersonating people who are not you, none of this is new, and yet whenever a deflection is needed from a preventable mass murder or two, suddenly the need to “protect” children from drag queens becomes pertinent. I know you might be thinking, "alright already, get to the movies bitch”, but I had to express my love for drag, my obsession for drag, and the historical, cultural impact of drag. I remember watching movies like Tootsie and She’s the Man and Mrs. Doubtfire as a child, where the entirety of the premise, the driving action, the climax, all surrounded performing different genders. I didn’t see Robin Williams in old lady drag and suddenly feel confused about my gender—And even if it had made me question my gender or the concept of it, so what?—I just thought: hahaha fun! Growing up in Austin, Leslie the street queen (may she rest in peace) was one of our proudest institutions. Drag is only subversive, edgy, and rebellious because it’s had to be! Dressing up as the opposite sex as you were born used to literally get you arrested. And now, 14 seasons, 7 all stars seasons, and 7 international spin offs of Ru Paul’s Drag Race later, we’re suddenly faced with the same misguided, backwards, bullshit criticism and demonizing of drag that went on when our grandparents were our age. I feel such a sense of joy, such a genuine thrill and excitement when I watch a drag performer. To see a queen at my local drag bar, to see the queens enter the workroom on Drag Race season after season, never ceases to entertain and inspire me. Drag is a love letter and an appreciation of gender performance. But what’s cool about it, is that drag also mocks the institution of gender performance. The forced, expected politeness or daintiness of a woman can be examined and laughed at through drag, and there’s just so much about toxic masculinity, and masculinity in general to make fun of. I’ll never stop loving this sport, this art, but I promise I will talk about these movies now. Due to my my voracious, unrelenting passion for the art of drag, I honestly can’t believe it’s taken me this long to do a night of drag double features. Some of my favorite drag-related films are To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything Julie Newmar, Paris is Burning, and Priscilla Queen of the Desert. Tonight’s selections are quite random, quite disparate, and yet they both stand as pieces of iconic pieces of drag history. First, was an old Hollywood classic that I’m ashamed took me this long to watch: Billy Wilder’s 1959 film Some Like it Hot. I know that it could be debated that Some Like it Hot is not a movie about drag, but a movie that involves drag, but this film is so influential to the media history of drag, and it is one of the few older portrayals of drag that doesn’t end terribly. For those who don’t know, Some Like it Hot is set in the 1920s and stars a reliably sexy Tony Curtis and a reliably high-strung Jack Lemmon, who play Joe and Jerry—two musicians in a speakeasy band that falls apart the night of a police raid. Broke, cold, and now witnesses to a major mob hit, Joe and Jerry’s only reasonable option is to dress as women and join a tour of an all-girls band. Joe and Jerry become Josephine and Geraldine—actually make that Daphne, Jerry decides—and manage to sell their female illusion to a train of female musicians, two tough band managers, and the other star of this film, Marilyn Monroe as Sugar Kane (a name I had of course heard before, because of Shuga Cain from season 11 of Drag Race). Apart from her small role in All About Eve, I’d never seen a Marilyn Monroe film, and apart from The Seven Year Itch, this is her most famous role. She sang and acted beautifully, stunningly, and though she was a clear sex symbol, she gave off a vibe of self-awareness that I wasn’t expecting. Josephine and Daphne have to fully commit to their female impersonations, to maintain their room, board, and livelihood, and to perhaps score a chance with the lovely drunken ukulele player/singer Sugar Kane. Yes, this film is a clear exemplification of the gender panic and set-in-stone gender roles that still existed in the almost-sixties (though it’s set in the 20s). Yes it was over the top in it’s commitment to creating a clear differentiating divide between genders, yes it bothers me that Jack Lemmon rejected the notion that this is a gay film. However, Some Like it Hot was so much fun. It was so silly, so rife with innuendos and sex puns delivered so swiftly and succinctly that you might miss them if you’re not paying attention. The dialogue as a whole was great, but the line that’s sticking with me the most is when Tony Curtis asks Jack Lemmon why a man would want to marry another man, to which Jack Lemmon fervently says, “Security!” I loved how it began as a mob story, then quickly turned into a comedy. Lots of Billy Wilder’s older films like Double Indemnity revolved around crime stories, his films later on were mostly slapsticky comedies, and Some Like it Hot seems like the bridge between the two eras. As silly as this film is, though, it seems significant that a film from the 1950s would even venture to show a man walking in a woman’s shoes, becoming exposed to the everyday sexism and perverts that many feminine-presenting people must endure. I was not disappointed by Some Like it Hot, but it was, of course, not draggy enough for me, so I was so beyond excited to finally watch Frank Simon’s groundbreaking 1967 documentary The Queen. The Queen documents the contestants and backstage process behind the 1967 Miss All-America Camp Beauty Contest held at NYC’s Town Hall. This was pre-Stonewall, pre-Paris is Burning, and certainly before drag became a part of the mainstream. Similarly to Paris is Burning, there’s an underground element to this documentary because although drag was becoming more of the norm in artistic spaces, it was still something so criticized and so taboo—it could very well still get you killed. The Queen didn’t focus on this aspect of drag performance though, and instead it introduced audiences to a vibrant, extravagant, interesting side of life that they’d likely never seen. Even watching this film now, in 2022, with all of my knowledge of drag, I got to experience a bit of history I was unfamiliar with. To see queens in gorgeous, colorful 60s gowns and hairstyles and makeup was amazing to see, and hearing what these contestants had to say was endlessly entertaining. I hesitate to mention some of the iconic, fascinating, wild stories that are told and the words that are exchanged, because reading them on a blog instead of hearing it from The Queen’s lips just wouldn’t be fair. Every performer featured was so sassy, brassy, and fearless. I loved seeing the process of getting into drag, what’s different now, what’s remained the same—one element that has apparently always been around is the ingrained sisterhood and eventual drama of a drag competition, which I was thankful for. I was absolutely living for the drama, that didn’t really present itself until the final act of this hour and five minute-long documentary, but I was so thankful for it. Crystal LaBejia, a co-founder of the ballroom scene in New York City, one of the pioneering black queens who competed in pageants, and an advocate of homeless LGBTQ+ youth was easily my favorite and the most iconic queen among them all. Though every single performer was captivating and special in their own right, Crystal had a lasting impact on me—I’ll be saying “Where is Sabrina, I will sue the bitch” for awhile now. It could be debated that Some Like it Hot is not the best representation of drag in film, but it was necessary for my own drag education, and it was too much fun to pass up. All in all, tonight’s films were exactly what I wanted: glittery, bold, and inspiring in its depictions of drag queens. Drag queens energize me, they inspire me, and the creativity and artistry of this life is too empowering to condemn and too beautiful to hide from any audience. And if you really think that drag queens are the problem with this country, I encourage you to read literally any other piece of news currently happening in America. In dark times like these, we could all use a little more silliness, glamour, and joy. So in the brilliant words of Lady Gaga “don’t be a drag, just be a queen” 👑