She’s Totally Wigged Out

The Los Angeles edition of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” a sublimely trashy and surprisingly powerful musical now at the Henry Fonda Theatre, doesn’t have certain advantages the show’s off-Broadway New York version had.

It hasn’t bubbled up seemingly from nowhere. It hasn’t sneaked into town. Rather, this ode to an East German transsexual rocker--written by and originally portrayed by John Cameron Mitchell--has traveled to L.A. on the rails of heavy expectations, freighted with hoopla and hype and Show Me What You Have There, Mister. Miss. Whatever.

Lest it appear too “foreign” or gamy, the L.A. edition’s being sold as a celebration of “the power of rock ‘n’ roll.” More to the point, it’s funny. It’s a satire with a snide wit and a big heart, relaying a tabloid-worthy life story told in concert, propelled by a first-rate score by Stephen Trask.

For years I’ve heard friends complain that musical theater rarely delivers the visceral punch of a good live band. “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” does. And not only because it features a good live band onstage.

The foursome is the Angry Inch, and the headliner is Hedwig Schmidt, played with bent, hugely winning charisma by Michael Cerveris. “The Who’s Tommy,” in which Cerveris originated the role of Tommy, only allowed the performer so much in terms of performance leeway. “Hedwig” is all leeway, all the time.

Hedwig’s biographical facts are grim. Hedwig was born Hansel. Sexually abused by his father, ignored by his mother, this “slip of a girly-boy” raised in Communist East Berlin consoled himself with American pop broadcast over Armed Forces Radio. His favorites included Toni Tennille and “crypto-homo rockers” such as David Bowie and Iggy Pop.

As Hedwig tells us between songs, a U.S. corporal in Berlin picked him up and convinced him to undergo a sex-change operation so they could marry and relocate to America. Hansel consented, but the operation didn’t quite take. It left Hansel/Hedwig--a one-person symposium on identity politics--with an inch-long reminder of the old days.

Soon Hedwig was stranded in Kansas, abandoned by her husband. She turned to turning tricks for money, with some baby-sitting on the side. Eventually Hedwig met Tommy, the son of a general, and became involved with the pimply “Jesus freak” both sexually and musically.

Tommy becomes Tommy Gnosis, rock superstar--and promptly rejects Hedwig. Years later they reunite in a limo, briefly and (for an oncoming busful of deaf children) most tragically. Tonight, while Hedwig performs for us, she hears Tommy Gnosis performing at the Hollywood Bowl. Will Tommy acknowledge what Hedwig meant to his career?

That’s the stuff of “Hedwig”: heartbreak and survival and pop hooks and some wondrously ‘70s wigs. Author Mitchell credits Plato’s “Symposium” as inspiration, and he’s not kidding. In the speech spoken by the playwright Aristophanes in “Symposium,” we’re told that the world originally hosted a third sex, the sex between women and men. Hedwig is that third sex, searching for completeness. By the end, signified by the power anthem “Midnight Radio,” he finds it, bidding goodbye to his scowling second husband, Yitzak (Miriam Shor), the former Zagreb drag queen.

Cerveris and the perpetually grim Shor are excellent. You need rock chops to wail on this score, and both performers have them. Cerveris is marvelously in sync with the pop eclecticism of Trask’s music. Vocally he’s sampling everyone from Bowie to Meat Loaf to John Lennon, yet the effect is all of a piece, all part of one generous and witty performance.

Early on Cerveris says how great it is to play “the Jane Fonda Theatre,” located “where the Walk of Fame meets the Walk of Shame.” At one point Cerveris’ Hedwig refers to Disney executives as “fascists.” The L.A.-tailored material is fun, although Cerveris takes his sweet time with some of the banter. The show, directed here and in New York by Peter Askin, runs five or 10 minutes longer here than it did the night I saw the same cast off-Broadway.

And frankly, “Hedwig” always did sag in its middle. For all its anti-formula trappings, however, this is actually a sweet, straightforward fable about a girly-boy who finds himself through music. It’s also one of the few original musicals in recent years that doesn’t fall apart around the two-thirds point. Even with its attenuated patches, the payoff pays off. It turns the Henry Fonda into a house of Hedwig-worship.

With a production this strong, it’s easy.

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* “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” Henry Fonda Theatre, 6126 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood. Wednesdays-Thursdays, 8 p.m.; Fridays, 8 and 11 p.m.; Saturdays, 5 and 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends Jan. 31. $22-$55. (310) 859-8230. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.

Michael Cerveris: Hedwig

Miriam Shor: Yitzak

Stephen Trask, Theodore Liscinski III, Paul Livingston, Sid Sosa: The Angry Inch

Written by John Cameron Mitchell. Music and lyrics by Stephen Trask. Directed by Peter Askin. Set and projections by Jim Youmans. Costumes by Fabio Toblini. Lighting by Kevin Adams. Sound by Phil Harris. Musical staging by Jerry Mitchell. Production stage manager Joe Witt.