Kinsey Sicks

Don they now their gay apparel! In an ecumenical display of wicked joie de vivre, the Kinsey Sicks are sending up everything that's holy in "Oy Vey in a Manger," a raunchily audacious declaration that nothing about the holidays is sacred.

If you haven't made the acquaintance of the Kinsey Sicks, it's high time you did. (Warning: for immature mature audiences only.) They're at Theater J through Jan. 2, and while other festive events may be decked out in red and green, theirs is of a bluer variety.

Calling themselves a "dragapella beauty-shop quartet," these four uproarious guys done up as wildly teased, rouged and girdled good-time gals sing fractured Christmas carols and Hannukah songs, riff on up-to-the-moment events and utter phrases no dainty dame ever would. (At the show I attended, a couple in front of me misguidedly brought along a young child; within minutes they were holding their hands over the boy's ears and minutes after that were scurrying for the exit.)

The group, formed in San Francisco in 1993, is currently made up of Spencer Brown, Irwin Keller, Jeff Manabat and Ben Schatz. Among them are graduates of the law schools of Harvard and the University of Chicago, so there's a lot more to them than ample decolletage. Why, you ask, would brilliant legal minds put down their briefs and put on frillier foundations?

Well, maybe it's because girls just want to have fu-un. "Oy Vey in a Manger" is their naughty Yuletide compendium of bad puns, salacious asides and dirty fantasies. The jokes are at the expense of everyone from Santa Claus to Julian Assange, and their caroling is less likely to incite the interest of happy children than members of the vice squad. The quartet is 50 percent Jewish and 50 percent gentile, which is why, target-wise, the show is a model of diversity.

"Jews don't sing Christmas carols; we just write them!" one of the Kinsey Sicks declares, after Keller, the a cappella group's pitch-pipe, has led them through "Lusty the Snowman." Some of the songs are a bit tamer, as is the case with a little ditty to the tune of the "Dreidel Song," which goes: "I had a little facial/I made it out of clay/And when it's dry and ready/I look like Beyonce."

The group wanders beyond the season for a hilariously Jewish take on a Bobby McFerrin hit: "Don't Be Happy - Worry!" Schatz sings. And even when the humor goes a little off (the group jokes about the unfortunate fate of the Donner party), the entertainers take the results in stride. "Thank you," Keller says, "for that smattering of ambivalent applause."

Most of the time, the clapping for the Kinsey Sicks is authentically joyful. How can you not be tickled at this time of year by ladies decked out in their finest telling you the story of the gifts to the baby Jesus of Barney Frank, incense and myrrh? - Washington Post

"Dragapella" is an off-Broadway show in a city where there's no such thing as "off-Broadway." Maybe this is not so bad.

On one hand, you figure that as the number of Las Vegas shows now teeters around 75, not all of them have to be for all people. "Dragapella," with its political bite and raunchy, sometimes sick humor, falls on a short list of titles that would appeal to what one could call, in shorthand terms, " 'The Daily Show' crowd."

The four queens who comprise the Kinsey Sicks bypass the Vegas-drag protocol of Whitney and Cher impressions to say what's on their sagging chests: "Be a tramp, be a ho!" they sing -- very well, by the way -- in a mock-gospel ditty. (Not that Cher wouldn't be down with that.)

They rephrase a show tune from "Chicago" announcing, "When you're good to Dubya, Dubya's good to you ... If you can't find Osama, find someone else to screw."

And because they're in Vegas, the city "responsible for making marriage the sacred institution it is today," they sing that they're "goin' to the chapel but we cannot get married" because they're "locked out of the chapel of love."

But "Dragapella" plays in rotation with "Menopause The Musical" in the Shimmer Cabaret at the Las Vegas Hilton, which is hardly the gentrified, cool-just-for-finding-it kind of place where you would expect to see this title on one of the coasts. And all Vegas shows get equal billing at the ticket counters and taxi tops. It's up to the consumer to figure out the difference between Danny Gans and The Amazing Johnathan, or "Forever Plaid" and "Dragapella."

This, however, just might be what could save "Dragapella" in a town where satire doesn't stay open long enough to close on Saturday night. On this particular Saturday night, the front-stage tables included a group of retirement-aged women who looked like they got lost on the way to "Menopause." Maybe they were the performers' mothers. Maybe they thought it was "Menopause." But they were laughing as hard as anyone in the room.

And really, you'd have to be Pat Robertson waiting for the bus to Bob Jones University not to.

Together, the Kinseys are credible a capella singers, but separately they are their own women. Trixie (Jeff Manabat) is the glammed-out Ginger of this desert isle. Winnie (Irwin Keller) keeps claiming to have a lesbian fiancee waiting for a legal civil union. Should we reveal that "she" may really be Wayne Newton? Probably not.

Trampolina (Chis Dilley) would like to wrap herself around everyone in the audience. And Rachel (Ben Schatz) is just plain scary. Harvey Fierstein in "Hairspray" is Miss America by comparison. Bette Davis in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" is ... well, female. But you get the idea.

The gals slurp Grey Goose and Coffee-mate and bicker about who spent all their earnings, thus stranding them in the shadow of their archenemy Celine Dion, aka She Who Shall Not Be Named.

The creators claim that straight patrons outnumber gay ones for "Dragapella," and the gay-centric humor is expanded far beyond the double entendres. Because it really is delivered in four-part harmony though, some of it flies by faster or is tougher to hear than in a nonmusical comedy show such as "The Second City."

Though all resemblance to "Forever Plaid" ends with the harmony and cabaret setting, you wish the Kinseys had that show's knack for doling out a series of surprises, rather than letting the audience see the gist of it in the first 10 minutes.

But University of Nevada, Las Vegas-based director Glenn Casale, who has independently worked with the quartet since 2001, continues to help fine-tune the show. In the early weeks, the Kinseys cut a serious number that put up too much of a speed bump for the comedy, as well as an audience bit that tested the boundaries of homophobia for even the most tolerant of ticket-buyers.

But "deep down, everybody is a drag queen," the Kinseys tell us, and by the end of it, most of the crowd was willing to join in a song about sexy underwear and to greet the new Las Vegas divas out front.

Celine shouldn't feel threatened, but Las Vegas may just be big enough for all five of them. - Las Vegas Review-Journal

If you didn't see The Kinsey Sicks on Friday night, you missed one hell of a show. The four drag divas (dubbed "America's Favorite Dragapella Beautyshop Quartet") knocked Williamstown off its feet. Their song list included ditties such as "Proud Marys," "When You're Good to Dubya," and "Rent a Homo," and their wonderful musical talent was punctuated by quick one-liners, the occasional improvisational moment and frequent audience participation.

The beauty of The Kinsey Sicks's show was that it was much more than a concert. In between the perfectly harmonized chords of their songs, Winnie, Trixie, Rachel and Trampolina told their story about having to stay on the road because they didn't have enough money to return home.

With this general unifying theme to their show, The Kinsey Sicks could have easily plowed through the songs and jokes. However, the performers took their time and weren't afraid to improvise a couple of lines here or there. Clearly, they were enjoying themselves, and their enjoyment spread through the audience like smiles across faces.

The audience was included in much of the action, and the performers would often come out into the aisles to keep the crowd interested. The audience did not simply clap and laugh: one audience member was given a lap dance and one was dressed as a drag queen. At the end of the show, the whole audience, divided into sections, sang the last song, "Sexy Underwear."

When one girl in the front row couldn't make a popping noise with her finger in her mouth, the lead queen Winnie declared, "It's either your finger or mine!" The Kinsey Sicks is clearly a group that values their audience participation very highly.

The show was also fairly personalized to the area. There were several little jokes about the "oddly-named theater" and the "Greater Williamstown Metropolitan Area." These quips were very well received, especially when Rachel pretended to accidentally call Williamstown "Williamsburg."

In addition to these wisecracks about Williamstown, many one-liners kept the audience on its toes. At one point, as a supplement to her obvious kinkiness, Rachel woefully declared, "I wish I knew how to quit ewes!" Winnie sheepishly admitted to having a lesbian lover in - where else - Flatbush. Lines like this dissolved any uncertainties about the quality of the performance.

But the dialogue was not the only clever aspect of The Kinsey Sicks's performance; the musical adaptations were also witty. Many of the songs parodied well-known tunes: "When You're Good to Mama" became "When You're Good to Dubya" - Bush's 'official' song" - and "We Are the World" became "We Arm the World" - a political commentary on the violent nature of some of America's aid. The majority of the songs, such as "Locked Out of the Chapel of Love," a commentary on gay and lesbian civil unions, had a clear political message.

In addition to the inevitable Bush-bashing, The Kinsey Sicks also poked fun at their 'original fifth member' and pianist Condoleezza Rice, making the title "Condoleezza Palooza" rather fitting.

However, not all of the comedy was political. The group's repertoire also included gay and lesbian humor ("Rent a Homo" and "Beaver") as well as relationship comedy in the form of songs like "Cruise People Uglier Than You" and "I've Been Through Parasites (But I've Never Had VD)." The group even poked fun at the gospel genre, over-exaggerating vocal runs and other gospel trademarks in "Be a Slut."

The comedy was punctuated by a sincere and heartfelt ballad about one of the original members of the group who passed away. Titled "Jerry's Song," it was powerful - not to mention serious evidence of the group's musical talent. In fact, their clear vocal tone and ranges to rival some sopranos were the most prominent part of The Kinsey Sicks's show.

The presence of a group like The Kinsey Sicks on campus is a tribute to the student body's diversity. Even older members of the community flocked to the event and made up a large percentage of the audience. The increasing acceptance of queer culture in Williamstown can be greatly attributed to the appearance of groups like The Kinsey Sicks, which will certainly have an increased fan base after their performance Friday night. - The Williams Record (Williams College)

What a drag! (I mean that in a nice way.)

For connoisseurs of gender-bending comedy who find Dame Edna too tame, the Kinsey Sicks up the ante in Dragapella -- quadrupling the outlandish feminine allure while boosting it with considerable vocal skills and a grab bag of outrageous, often naughty, musical numbers.

Ben Schatz (as "Rachel"), Kevin Smith Kirkwood ("Trixie"), Irwin Keller ("Winnie") and Chris Dilley ("Trampolina") are billed as "America's favorite Dragapella beauty shop quartet." Bet you didn't even know we had one.

Well, apparently we do, and the Kinseys are it. Their pun-ishable name derives from sociologist Alfred Kinsey's 1-to-6 scale of sexuality, in which a 6 signifies exclusive homosexual behavior. Yet for all his exploration of human sexuality, Kinsey never discovered anything quite like this San Francisco-born act.

Their revue, which has drawn favorable notice off-Broadway and at Montreal's Just for Laughs Comedy Festival, is making its Houston debut through Sunday at Hobby Center's Zilkha Hall.

Glenn Casale, director of the off-Broadway edition (here directing Theatre Under The Stars' My Fair Lady at Hobby's Sarofim Hall) was in the audience at Wednesday's opening. Much of his staging remains from the New York run (the cast's onstage comments suggest the show is in constant flux), and Dragapella benefits from high energy, a brisk pace and some potent sight gags.

Schatz, who writes most of the new songs and parody lyrics, takes charge of the stage as robust and raunchy Rachel. She skips across the stage in a burst of girlish high spirits, gallumphing like one of the balletic hippos in Disney's Fantasia. Rachel also is prone to sudden fits of Miss Piggy-like temper. When she starts barking orders, she calls to mind a bulldog wearing too much makeup.

Keller's Winnie is comparatively restrained, the polite suburban homemaker of the group. Dilley's Trampolina exudes ebullience, blithely unaware of the ludicrousness of her hyperfemininity.

Oddly enough, while the others create broad parodies of women's roles, Kirkwood's Trixie registers as a genuine dish -- a vivacious and sassy femme fatale (with a big, belting voice to boot) who likely could fool a few unsuspecting gentlemen.

When they segue from I Enjoy Being a Girl into Macho Man, it's difficult to tell which extreme of gender identity makes a more absurd fit.

The pitfall is that a little of such over-the-top silliness goes a long way. With several turns, the primary appeal is the initial premise, meaning the rest of the song cannot possibly be as hilarious as the opening lines.

A hymn to pigging out at a Vegas hotel's all-you-can-eat buffet, and a send-up of Celine Dion and her soupy song that goes on and on, are among those that suffer the inevitable diminishing returns. The parody lyrics run from racy to raunchy to just plain tacky.

Yet most of the time, the show sustains itself through the cast's good humor, vocal skills and some pretty funny lyrics.

The opening title song, set to the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah, amusingly describes the act as "barber shop meet Barbarella" and adds that the show is "more fun than salmonella." The finale, declaring that everyone wants to be a drag queen (and recruiting a volunteer from the audience to prove the point!) proclaims that the act was "once unthinkable" but is now "un-lip-synchable" -- a rhyme clever enough for Ira Gershwin or E.Y. Harburg.

In a few instances, the show even maintains its comic punch while making a serious statement. The Goin' to the Chapel wedding song includes an implicit plea for fairness with its repeated "but we cannot get married" refrain. Another number keeps its good humor while throwing its hands up at the hard-to-follow pharmacological regimen required to treat HIV.

The sole 100-percent-serious turn is a subdued ballad wishing hope and peace to an ailing friend. The fact that the quartet momentarily make us forget the wild wigs and garish costumes to consider only their humanity perhaps distills the point of the whole enterprise. - Houston Chronicle

"The hottest ticket in town ... taking the cabaret world by storm ... voices sweet as birdsong."
New York Times

"If Dame Edna somehow mated with the Bobs their offspring might resemble The Kinsey Sicks, a San Francisco-based drag quartet that apparently has never encountered a tune it couldn't twist and bend to suit its own wickedly amusing purposes.... The Kinsey Sicks manage to put on quite a show.... Perfect harmony ... a spirited, crowd-cheering close."
Washington Post

"One of the more uniquely original (and thoroughly fun and entertaining) acts we have encountered in years... rich four-part harmony... hilarious... this is one act that should not be missed, either in person or on CD."
Billboard Magazine

"'Dragapella,' with its political bite and raunchy, sometimes sick humor, falls on a short list of titles that would appeal to what one could call, in shorthand terms, 'The Daily Show' crowd... On this particular Saturday night, the front-stage tables included a group of retirement-aged women who looked like they got lost on the way to 'Menopause the Musical.' ... But they were laughing as hard as anyone in the room. And really, you'd have to be Pat Robertson waiting for the bus to Bob Jones University not to."
Las Vegas Review Journal

"Inventive...riotiously funny...sublime."
Variety

"These four guys are talented musicians.... The response has been incredible"
CBS Early Show with Bryant Gumbel

"Get thyself to 'Dragapella!' Four fabulous a cappella singers! Very funny!"
Liz Smith

"Gut wrenchingly funny...pitch perfect a cappella harmonies."
The Advocate

"The Kinsey Sicks are a riot, singing perfect harmonies of song parodies that not only impress the audience with their vocal abilities but also keeping fans laughing for the better part of 90 minutes."
Las Vegas Sun

"Campy and bawdy, this show is a feast for the eyes, the ears and the funny bone."
Showbiz Weekly (Las Vegas)

"Loved it! This is the kookiest cross-dress combo since, I don't know!"
Michael Musto, Village Voice

"Gloriously, proudly bad taste...gut-busting parodies and raucous shtick...high camp, unafraid, subversive...astonishing."
San Francisco Chronicle

"Outrageous, marvelous, hilarious ... they're golden-throated vocalists who defy categorization."
Chicago Tribune

"Hammy, hilarious music with a message... These are four men with big hair and big voices."
Miami Herald

"For connoisseurs of gender-bending comedy who find Dame Edna too tame, the Kinsey Sicks up the ante in Dragapella -- quadrupling the outlandish feminine allure while boosting it with considerable vocal skills and a grab bag of outrageous, often naughty, musical numbers... over-the-top silliness...hilarious...lyrics clever enough for Ira Gershwin or E.Y. Harburg."
Houston Chronicle

"Drag performers with angelic voices, acid tongues, and a fiery wit that bounces around the stage like a dodgeball, the Kinsey Sicks are quickly making their annual contribution to the holidays a must-see tradition."
San Francisco Bay Guardian

"Wickedly funny ... outrageous ... The Kinseys have earned flat-out critical raves."
Detroit Free Press

"As funny as they are harmonious, they have already cemented their national repuation."
The Boston Globe

"Beautifully sung, comic and politically savvy. It was a lark with substance and the audience (and I) went wild."
Montreal Gazette

"Riotously funny...ferociously creative...a must-see...everyone will enjoy themselves!"
Time Out Magazine (New York)

"Lavish! Outrageous! The Kinsey SIcks are solid comics and especially solid singers."
New York Daily News

"Tight harmonies the Andrews Sisters would have envied. [V]ery funny ... intelligent ... touching."
Boston Herald

"The Kinsey Sicks steal the show with their offbeat comedy and flawless a cappella singing."
Louisville Courier-Journal

- Various