By LA Weekly
By Henry Rollins
By Weekly Photographers
By Shea Serrano
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Dan Weiss
By Erica E. Phillips
By Kai Flanders
Give him an inch and he’ll take a Golden Globe nomination. To shrieks of “Hedwig!,” JOHN CAMERON MITCHELL, writer/director/star of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, graciously accepted a raucous standing ovation from approximately 400 of his overstimulated fans — including RUFUS WAINWRIGHT — at a midnight “Sing Along With Hedwig” screening at the FAIRFAX CINEMAS. The pixie-ish actor (pictured) introduced cast and crew members from the movie version of his off-Broadway hit about a German male-to-female transsexual rock singer in search of love and fame in the crummy backwater towns of the USA; among those bounding onto the stage were producer KATIE ROUMEL, editor ANDREW MARCUS, costume designer ARIANNE PHILLIPS and actor THEODORE LISCINSKI, who plays Hedwig’s scruffy moonstruck backup singer, Jacek. Also on hand: Broadway costumer NAOMI DESPREZ and designer MICHAEL SCHMIDT, promoter of NYC’s Squeezebox, the club where Hedwig got its start. Pre-screening festivities included a Hedwig Costume Contest, hosted by “Fairfax False Femme Fatale” DEBBIE DUBOIS, all 6-foot-plus of him/her looking stunning in a long blond Hed wig. Winners included the ANIMATION GIRLS, two bold young women with cartoon images from the film painted on their naked-from-the-waist-up bodies, and “Hansel, Communist Youth,” who wowed the crowd with a Hansel/Hedwig shimmy. MARC EDWARD HEUCK, from Comedy Central’s Beat the Geeks, did MC duty, exhorting the already delirious throng to scream, sing and yell whatever came to mind at the highest decibels possible during the movie. The result was a cacophony of audience commentary that drowned out half the dialogue, but most of ’em had it memorized anyway. All very Rocky Horror, and while nothing can ever take the place of the “Time Warp,” the Babe from Bilgewater can definitely hold her own against Dr. Frank-N- Furter any midnight.
“I can’t believe they want a tip for this shitty wine,” remarked Velvet Hammer’s SELENE LUNA, pointing out a jar of dollar bills on the bar at COLEMAN GALLERY, although she managed to drink down every drop while checking out painter JOSH BAYER’s muscularly abstract canvases. Tip jars at gallery openings! What’s next, artists having to valet-park the cars? Taking it all in were mullet-sporting photog DAVID LA CHAPELLE with an entourage of Silver Lake–ish studs, actors DACK RAMBO and RICHARD EDSON and Josh’s brother, video director SAMUEL BAYER. A tall blond, rumored to be a Survivor from the Australian bush, managed to get almost as much attention as the art, although the real bush action was in the teeny bathroom where a few ladies showed off their wax jobs. Writer and performance artist DIVIANA INGRAVALLO’s was deemed most unusual: the trimmed pubic area resembled Hitler’s mustache, only with a string. Rock & roller PEARL HARBOUR, joking that most of the men at the opening were better dressed than she was, instigated a field trip to Sloan’s bar next door, where there was little fear of any man there being more nattily attired. On the way over, we came across a woman, apparently a Middle Eastern pop star, who was besieged by paparazzi while autographing the ass of a fan. No strings attached here!
While proudly proclaiming one’s white-trashiness has been trendy for a while now (e.g., Eminem, Kid Rock), being trailer trash — as in tractor-trailer big rigs — is still fresh. TRUCKER NIGHT at SPACELAND elevated the idea to high concept, though there was nary a semi in sight, just the standard Silver Lake–issue battered-up Dodge Darts parked in the lot. But inside, the club was cookin’ in a way that woulda made Johnny Cash smirk with pride. Opening the show was the aptly named NAKED TRUCKER, and closing it were the BUXOTICS, whose only connection to truckin’ seemed to be lead guitarist/singer RITA D’ALBERT, who was fetchingly decked out like a “lot lizard” — that’s trucker slang for “ho.” Stealing the show was WHITE LINE FEVER, a heshin’ highway-crazy combo featuring rockabilly baron NEIL MOONEY, El Vez drummer SLIM EVANS and ex-Fuzztone JOHN CARLUCCI, who are currently recording a CD tentatively titled Road Rage. The Fever’s gloriously sleazy singer THOMAS CESANO seemed to channel everyone from Steve Earle to Burt Reynolds, with a little C.W. McCall (remember that ’70s hit “Convoy”?) thrown in for good measure. The band also featured something no trucker should ever be without, black beauties, in this case a go-go dancing duo dubbed METHADRENA and CRYSTALLINA, who shimmied in unison wearing skintight coveralls with “Route 66” belt buckles. Whoopin’ it up were actress PAGET BREWSTER and her Agent 15 director AUGUSTA, DJ-about-town SENOR AMOR, filmmaker JULIEN NITZBERG, and “Pussy Print-cess” KARI FRENCH. For some reason, the crowd also included a number of Fox Entertainment execs: Who knows, perhaps they were trolling the talent for a remake of Smokey and the Bandit? Ten-four, good buddy!
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