Popination Randomization
a series of unhinged personal essays disguised as pub reviews. Today: Roxy on Broadway.
The other day, I appeared in a fellow performer’s burlesque show, by invitation. I was happy to come play, both because I’ll be abroad during my next Blue Dime Cabaret show, but also because they were doing a roulette, and that is always such a fun challenge. I’d never worked with these folks before actually, though I’d heard of the producer and knew a couple of the performers, as well as being recognized by a few of the acts too. It was going to take place at an eminent (and reportedly artsy) bar and music venue down on the Bohemian South Broadway area of Denver. So I packed up my costume, took a perfunctory look at the playlist, and was on my way.
I didn’t look at the outside of the Broadway Roxy (or is that Roxy on Broadway?) very closely but the front door looked pretty cool as I snapped a quick shot.
Roxy Moxie Roulette
They do a monthly show down at the Roxy, I guess, which is great – I find monthly is the perfect rhythm for a show like this (more frequently is too busy, less frequently makes it hard to get audiences to come out). They call their shows Roxy Moxie, which I find adorable. But this show was a roulette, like I mentioned, so I didn’t have to worry about any rehearsal to speak of, other than a basic reveal plan. Wait — what’s a burlesque roulette? It’s a burlesque show where all the songs are randomly selected onstage in real time. When we did one at Blue Dime Cabaret, we had a giant foam d20, and a playlist of 20 songs, so we had each performer roll the die (or they had an audience member roll it for them) and if they decided to pass, their ‘punishment’ was to randomly choose a prop that they had to use. At the Roxy, they had us pull a letter and then a number from a bag: the letter was for the song choice, and the number was for the prop. The prop choices were wild: a rotating leather stool, a watering can, a plunger, a length of pink rope with which a drag queen wrapped themselves up and whipped themselves provocatively…
I was asked recently whether that type of random performance (and actually burlesque in general) makes me extra nervous. But I don’t get nervous when performing anymore, hardly at all. Sometimes when I’m not performing but am directing, then I’ll be nervous, but I’ve been in this business so long that it really doesn’t affect me with stage fright anymore. What does happen though, is that I’ll lose my appetite completely by the afternoon of a show night, which could be argued to be nerves, I suppose. I’ll often have a beer, but every time I’ve tried to eat something between 2pm and showtime, it… well let’s just say it hasn’t ended well. So I usually eat something afterwards. And when it comes to stripping? Far from making me more nervous, it’s actually so much playful fun and so empowering that I don’t get nervous for that, as exposed as the art form makes one. And the randomization of a roulette makes it that much more fun.
Hipster? I hardly know her.
The Roxy’s bar area has a lovely long bar and also a few tables, with painfully hipsterish young queer beauties patrolling to serve. Big gauges in the ears, varying dyed color to the hair, and lots of eccentric clothing and extensive ink abounded. I only had drinks the night of this show but I was told that their fries are pretty stellar. I’ll have to come back sometime to sample those. Oh, and it seems that Paulaner, not PBR, has become the hipster lager of choice, FYI.
I traded in my drink tickets for a Paulaner and settled in to the back of the performance half of the Roxy at a high top table to watch the rest of the show, as I went second in the lineup. And I had a fantastic time, both watching and performing.
Stop Drop and Roll
My roulette experience at the Roxy was a pretty immense challenge, even for me, who’s been doing this art form since 2016. The song I drew: Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s Get It On.’ Which, okay it’s a great sexy song but holy cow it is MUCH LONGER than I have ever noticed before, good lord… My prop: an ab roller from the ‘90s. Did I get on my knees and actually use it at various points throughout my act? You bet your spangled boobies I did. I also used it on my ample midsection itself and joked with the audience with gestures that illustrated how the ab roller wasn’t doing its job to my satisfaction. Which was funny and so much fun. Though I wish I’d brought my kneepads…
Ventripotent
Downstairs in the Roxy was a jewel of a speakeasy that was remarkably beautiful and I wanted it. I didn’t get any pics of that, sorry—it was kept as our dressing room and so I wanted to keep the performers’ privacy intact. I wondered about that separate space, with its tiny stage and Victorian armchairs set up in front of ornate tables adorned with crystal ashtrays (can it be, that smoking is allowed in the speakeasy?) and gilt framed mirrors reflect the scene. I noticed that there was a colorful sign behind the bar, part neon, that said ‘Speakeasy / Open’ with the ‘open’ part in neon. It wasn’t lit up that night, so I got the idea, I think, of how it works. And so we used it as a dressing room. Which was really cool, except these days, long flights of stairs mislike me, and it wasn’t super pleasant to trudge up and down from the dressing room to my perch in the audience and back.
I felt good about my performance but boy is this old body hard to move around these days. Oh I always ham it up: showing my ass when mounting the big step up onto a stage and also when getting up off the floor when I (rarely these days) choose to go down, but a nimble ninja warrior adept at taihenjutsu, I am no longer. Having randomly selected the ab roller did great emotional work on me re: my issues with my belly, though – it was really funny, and even though it was hard to get back up again, it was still a lot of fun (and actually felt pretty good) to get down onto my knees and use the roller as it should be used. Audience members would shout, ‘You don’t need it!’ and it did good things to my heart and my ego.
So that was my introduction to The Roxy on Broadway. I’ll have to find my way back there sometime when I don’t have other things to do. Maybe I’ll try those famously delicious fries. Maybe the speakeasy will be open.