Feb 02, 2007  |  By: PATRICK FOLLIARD  | COMMENTS     

It’s been 25 years since drag artist John Epperson introduced Lypsinka to Manhattan’s then-edgy East Village scene where she was an instant hit at spots like the Pyramid Club. But little did Epperson know at the time that his flame-haired, manic creation would go on to make him a name, pay the bills and become what’s turning out to be a lifelong companion.

Lypsinka is Epperson’s homage to all the glamorous dames of stage, screen (large and small) and smoke-filled lounges whom he’s idolized ever since he was a little gay boy growing up in Hazlehurst, Miss. A frenetic edge and a surplus of kinetic energy make Lypsinka the ideal conduit for Epperson’s genius theatrical concept: 90 minutes of hundreds of rapid-fire audio clips culled from old movies, nightclub albums and comedy routines
flawlessly and often hilariously mouthed by a valiant yet slightly touched broad. Ordinarily, a Lypsinka show adheres to this tried and true formula. That is until now.

With the Washington debut of “Lypsinka: The Passion of the Crawford,” the Helen Hayes Award-winning Epperson brings his leggy alter ego back to Studio Theatre for the third time.

“This show is very different from the others,” he explains in an interview with the Blade. “With this one, there isn’t all that motion, lyrics and dance. It’s a sustained piece and definitely calls for an adventurous theatergoer.”

MOST OF “THE Passion” is based on one long interview with Joan Crawford. Taped in New York in 1973 before a live audience as part of a popular series titled “Legendary Ladies of the Silver Screen,” Crawford answers questions about her decades-long career posed by that old school press agent to the stars John Springer. The show draws from just two other aural sources — the late movie star and alleged child abuser’s syrupy rendition of “The Desiderata” and an oddly chilling dramatic monologue on the importance of little children — to which Epperson as Lypsinka playing the older Crawford precisely lip syncs. Actor and magician Steve Cuiffo mouths Springer’s queries.

“The interview has a nice arc to it,” says Epperson. “At first she’s nervous and sounds a bit tipsy [her well-known stage fright apparently called for fortification], then she’s sexy and tries to be funny. Of course, her humor is very square but that’s part of the fun.” 

Though not among the primary inspirations for Lypsinka —“She’s more [glamorous Broadway musical star] Dolores Gray meets Carol Burnett” — Epperson has used innumerable Crawford sound bites in his shows. Her personae are varied: pompous, knowing, tough.

“During the interview, you hear her going in and out of her grand dame accent,” says Epperson. “Part of her wanted to be the great lady, and another part wanted to be drunk and get laid. It’s what makes her so interesting.”

Whereas most drag queens do Crawford as a monstrous, wire hanger-wielding harridan, Epperson explains that in “The Passion” he strives to make her more human without sacrificing the laughs. Crawford, whose name was decided by a fan magazine write-in contest, was a Hollywood creation, a total movie star, but something of the unsure, struggling girl remained with her to the end.

Because it’s so tempting to mock her grandness, pomposity and that extreme face, says Epperson, it’s easy to forget that along with Judy Garland, Marilyn Monroe and Elvis, she is one of the great icons of the 20th century. Like them, Crawford represents the best and worst of the American dream.

Unlike other adored train wrecks, Crawford’s bad behavior was not for public consumption until after her death when her daughter Christina published the bestselling tell-all “Mommie Dearest.” Epperson wonders why Hollywood closed ranks to keep Crawford’s dirty laundry a secret. Was it out of respect for an enduring career that began in silent film? These questions interest him and help to shape his performance.

WHILE PORTRAYING THE glam drama queens of a certain era, Epperson’s own everyday life is decidedly less crazed.

As a kid, Epperson says he felt like a changeling dropped from the sky. He didn’t connect with his parents, and though they’re aware that he’s gay, he has never discussed his sexuality with them then or now. (At one time he thought he needed to talk about it with them, but his friend and playwright Mart Crowley of “Boys in the Band” advised him not to push it, and his psychotherapist agreed.) Nonetheless, his ultra religious mother and his father saw him perform as Lypsinka, an experience they found altogether ...