Drag Club Finoccio’s Set for Last Curtain Call

After 63 years of high heels, padded bras and bawdy humor, the curtain is about to fall on this city’s legendary drag club Finoccio’s.

But inside the club, it still feels like vaudeville is alive and well.

On a recent Saturday night, cast members buzzed with excitement. They dabbed their cheeks with rouge and tugged their wigs down tight before racing to the tiny stage just as the lights went on.

If this really was the end, the boys wanted to go out with a bang.

“I’m going to sing, tell jokes and give the performance of my life,” said Brian Griffiths, the show’s emcee. “I want people to leave here thinking ‘I can’t believe this place is closing.’ ”

After the club’s many years at the core of San Francisco’s bustling night life, not many can. In its prime, Finoccio’s was not only a hot spot for locals, it drew tourists by the busload. The campy cabaret became world renowned and helped San Francisco forge its reputation for alternative entertainment.

In recent years, however, the taste for burlesque has waned, and this month the club’s owner announced that Finoccio’s had fallen victim to a steep rent increase. It closes Saturday.

“It’s become more than I can afford to run the show,” said Eve Finoccio, who opened the club with her late husband, Joe. “But it’s sad to say goodbye to something so special.”

The club opened in 1936 with a corner stage used mostly for storage, and an occasional puppet act. But a performance by a man impersonating Sophie Tucker created such a stir that Joe Finoccio brought in a full cast of female impersonators and pieced together a show modeled after the Ziegfeld Follies.

The act took off and soon the club moved to its current home in North Beach, a neighborhood that sparkles with neon at night.

Initially, the club was hampered by strict laws forbidding performers to dress as women anywhere except for the stage. But soon Joe Finoccio broached a tacit understanding with police that allowed the club to operate unfettered.

“I remember my grandfather telling me when I was a kid to let the cops in free, because they always took care of us,” said Eric Jorgensen, Finoccio’s grandson, who is now the general manager.

In the 1940s and 1950s, Finoccio’s was hugely popular within the gay community.

“At Finoccio’s a gay man could look at a man dressed as women, and desire him behind the illusion of heterosexuality,” said Susan Stryker, executive director of the Gay and Lesbian Historical Society of Northern California.

The drag queens were equally popular with tourists, who were dropped off at the club each night by local tour bus companies.

In Finoccio’s heyday, which continued through the 1960s, more than 300 people packed each of the club’s four nightly shows. The club was open five nights a week and seldom closed before 2 a.m.

In recent years, many of North Beach’s nightspots have given way to strip clubs and sex shops. And tour buses seldom stop at Finoccio’s. As business has declined, the club has scaled back to three shows a night, and is open just Thursdays through Saturdays.

“It’s no longer acceptable within the gay community not to be forthright about your sexuality,” said Stryker, author of “Gay by the Bay.” “And people in general stay home a lot more than they used to. So, Finoccio’s has seen its patronage cut into from both sides.”

After the club announced its closing, however, locals have come out en masse, eager to bid farewell to an old friend.

“Drag is dying because of pornography, and it’s a shame,” said Gary Miller of Sacramento, who first visited Finoccio’s 30 years ago. “I love when they tease the straight men, and I wanted to catch the show at least one more time before it’s gone.”

Others came for the first time.

“I have no idea what to expect,” said Dan Zerga, an engineer who arrived with his wife on their 13th wedding anniversary. “I know they will be in drag, but beyond that, it’s a mystery.”

One audience member admired the costumes so much, she asked to borrow the emcee’s slinky green gown in the middle of the show.

“You like this one, honey?” asked Griffiths, with a swagger, and a smile. “Tell you what, I’ll rent it to you in about two weeks.”