Punk Rock Realness at Signature
Picture it: a Friday night in Shirlington, and you and your best judies roll up to Signature Theatre for Hedwig and the Angry Inch. The vibe hits before the show even starts. Instead of stuffy ushers, you’re greeted by bowls of party favors – we’re talking free condoms, tampons, and even fentanyl test strips at the theater door (source). Yes, Mary, you read that right. Signature is that kind of fabulous.
The not-so-mean streets of suburban Shirlington vanish as you step into a grungy DIY den that feels more punk rock club than polished playhouse. It’s like stumbling into an underground drag gig: there’s a turntable spinning Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust on vinyl as you find your seat, and a makeshift ACT UP poster on the wall gives a knowing wink to queer rebel history. By the time the lights dim, you’ve already gotten the message – this isn’t your grandma’s musical. It’s a glitter-drenched, glam-punk party and everyone’s invited.
A Hedwig for the Ages (and the Gays)
At the center of this fabulous chaos is Hedwig herself, played by Sawyer Smith – and honey, she is everything. Smith delivers a performance so magnetic and over-the-top you’d swear Hedwig is a real rock diva stomping through a club gig. Critics agree: they’re “the terrific new Hedwig” anchoring this lean-and-mean revival (Washington City Paper).
From bawdy one-liners to gut-punch ballads, Smith nails Hedwig’s sharp-tongued humor and aching vulnerability. One moment she’s trash-talking an ex with a naughty wink; the next she’s baring her soul under a lone spotlight. It’s a rollercoaster of feels – and we are here for it.
But a diva is nothing without her entourage. Enter Yitzhak, Hedwig’s long-suffering husband/sidekick, played by Vanessa (V) Sterling. Their chemistry sizzles. Yitzhak simmers in the shadows for most of the show… until they don’t. When Sterling’s moment comes (no spoilers), the house will erupt.
Meanwhile, the Angry Inch band – live and loud – stays onstage the whole time, shredding through Stephen Trask’s score and giving Hedwig the glam-punk backdrop she deserves. Signature even offers free earplugs for the faint of heart. (We say: skip ’em. Let the music baptize you.)
Sashay to Shirlington: Why It’s Worth It
We know. Shirlington might as well be Narnia if you’re living off the Green Line. But trust: this show is worth the Red Line → Blue Line → bus transfer or a very justified Uber XL. Here’s why:
- Vibe check: passed – The ARK Theatre space is decked out in trash-chic décor with thrifted flair, concert lights, and a crowd that *gets it*. You’re not in a theater. You’re at Hedwig’s party.
- Sawyer Smith is a revelation – A RuPaul finalist-meets-Bowie alien-glam fantasy, Smith eats the stage and leaves no crumbs.
- DC in-jokes galore – Expect riffs on “Bussy Boys & Poets” and other inside-the-Beltway shade that’ll have you cackling into your cocktail.
- Right show, right now – With WorldPride on the horizon and the world being a hot mess, Hedwig’s message of queer resilience hits hard.
Hedwig’s Cultural Reset (in Heels)
If you’re new to Hedwig, here’s the SparkNotes: it’s the story of a genderqueer East German glam rocker who survives a botched sex change, a bad romance, and a stolen music career – all told through gritty monologue and electric songs. It’s been a queer cult classic since the ’90s and now feels more relevant than ever.
Signature Theatre first staged it back in 2002 – yes, they’ve got history with Hedwig. This new production, landing just in time for Pride Month, feels like a glitter bomb of catharsis. In an era of drag bans and culture wars, Hedwig is your punk fairy godmother shouting “Live your truth!” while throwing glitter in Ron DeSantis’ face.
It runs through June 22, 2025, making it the perfect Pride Month plan for you and your crew. Call it your after-after party. Come for the glam; stay for the existential reckoning and thigh-high boots.
Go. Now.
Get your tickets. And bring a friend. Or five. Because watching Hedwig find her other half – and slay her inner demons – might just recharge your own queer little heart.
Then you can say, sipping mimosas next Sunday: “Oh, you didn’t see Hedwig at Signature? And you call yourself cultured?”
Now put on some makeup, turn up the eight-track, and sashay your way to Shirlington. Hedwig has a song (and maybe a free condom) with your name on it.
