"Every inch is packed with dynamite!"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, whether you like it or not, Hedwig!" So begins Hedwig and the Angry Inch, the off-Broadway hit that recently enchanted Los Angeles. And don't be concerned, you will like it.

With a text by John Cameron Mitchell and words and music by Stephen Trask, Hedwig stars Michael Cerveris (Tommy, Titanic) in the role he took over from Mitchell. Nancy Hower plays Yitzak, Hedwig's much put upon husband. Aaron Embry, Theodore Liscinski III, Paul Livingston and Sid Sosa make up The Angry Inch.

The curtains are already up as we are seated. The stage is dressed...well...as a stage. Backstage, really, with exposed brick and general grime. There's instruments set up, and a small kitchen-like setting off to the right. It's like you're there to see a rock show in a little club. And that's what it's supposed to be.

The house lights are still up as a motley looking crew wanders one at a time through the audience and on to the stage. Since the crowd is already pretty flashy looking, I didn't at first realize these weren't regular people. They're fabulous looking in black leather and mesh--sort of an East German punk--pretty boys with red shadow circles around their eyes and black polish on stubby nails; all made up and sexy with sneering lips and a bored demeanor. They pick up their instruments and sit back. Then one guy, without an instrument, and strangely feminine under his five o'clock shadow and shaggy brows, makes the aforementioned introduction. He's Yitzak. Then, strutting down the aisle comes a big-faced woman in a Farrah-Fawcett-meets-Pippi-Longstocking platinum wig. She's dressed in this sort of denim and flag short skirted get up with a cape she uses like wings. She looks a little like Tootsie, but maybe that's because she's a guy wearing a lot of make-up.

So here's Hedwig (pronounced as the German Hedvig), an East German transsexual, internationally ignored song stylist. Her backing band, The Angry Inch, is named for the status of her genitals, a mound of flesh one inch long where her penis was and vagina should have been were her operation not botched. She's in LA doing a show while right around the corner the rock star she created, Tommy Gnosis, plays a sold-out show at the Hollywood Bowl. Tommy's her alter ego--her missing other half--who has left her behind.

Through Stephen Trask's brilliant songs and the delightfully witty stage patter, Hedwig tells the tale of her pain-filled life, and we love her. She's charming, funny, fabulously entertaining, wonderfully pathetic. And the music she and The Angry Inch perform is uniformly excellent, ranging from the punk "Angry Inch" to "Sugar Daddy," a good ol' fashioned country barn burner. The ballads, like the heart-wrenching "Wig in a Box," are exquisite sweet morsels that add to Hedwig's lovely frail humanity.

I suppose Hedwig brings The Rocky Horror Picture Show to mind, but I think that has more to do with it's unconventionality. And there's that guy in drag thing, too. But Hedwig is not particularly theatrical. She certainly is, but the show itself is an intimate evening with the chanteuse, not a big cinematic production. Comparisons to any other show just won't do justice to Hedwig; she and her Angry Inch are just too damned unique.

--Joanna Rubiner

We highly recommend the Hedwig and the Angry Inch Original Cast Recording on Atlantic Records. You don't need to see the show for this to become one of your favorite CDs.