BASH'd

I usually not a fan of creative subversive – that decidedly art school conceit grandfathered by surrealists – of co-opting forms or genres and exploiting them to create something new, mostly because what’s found, what’s new, isn’t very new at all. That and the process, sort of by definition, always appears rather uninspired and holds hints of derision. So, I was a little more than apprehensive of seeing BASH’d the self-proclaimed gay rap opera here in Calgary as a part of the High Performance Rodeo. I worried it would be a little too cloying, a little too in-joked and that instead of being entertaining would be the fertile source of cringe. I was wrong and never happier to be.

BASH’d, written and performed by Chris Craddock and Nathan Cuckow, with tremendous direction by Ron Jenkins and the wonderful work of the musical director Aaron Macri, is inspired theatre. Two gay rappers – Feminem and T-Bag – tell the story, mostly in rap, of Dylan and Jack, lovers whose happiness ends badly, a foretold tragedy played out against the backdrop of Alberta in the last, desperate days of outgoing Premier Ralph Klein, who vitriolic hate-speech deriding the rights of gays to marry was the genesis of the play’s creation. Klein – who perpetually got everything spectacularly wrong – decided he was going to defend “traditional” Albertan values and the course the defense took was inflammatory speech after inflammatory speech; an action that helped increase the incidents of gay bashing in the province. Indignant and inspired, Craddock and Cuckow set about creating BASH’d.

Using hip-hop, which, today at least, is sadly hyper-masculine in the worst sense of that word and sadder still, often violently homophobic, Craddock and Cuckow’s creation is a wondrous thing. It shouldn’t work on so many levels and yet it does and then some. Craddock and Cuckow do hard work here, rewarding the audience with brilliant word play, clever insights, humor, and ultimately, delivering a sad, thoughtful story that thankfully avoids any sense of pedantic preaching. What impressed me most was their commitment – their anger that anyone, anywhere think it justifiable to treat gay men and women with anything less than the utmost dignity and respect is obvious. Yet, it’s never a play about two angry homosexuals sitting around being really, really angry. It’s witty – the brief annotated history of gay sub-cultures as seen at a bar is one the show’s highlights – and it’s finally terribly moving.

Above all, BASH’d is something that come close to being heroic. Pop culture is still unfortunately mostly a wasteland of gay clichés fully realized whether its Will and Grace or Steve and Chris. Stereotypes of gay men and women littered the landscape and as I posted previously, it all reminds me of a minstrel show where jiving and shucking have been replaced by mincing and blackface is now botox. BASH’d seems startlingly real in comparison. Vigorously honest, celebratory, and meaningful, it takes its proud place next to other important gay works like Angels in America or The Laramie Project.