Review: ‘The Legend of Georgia McBride’ at Flying Anvil Theatre

Things aren’t going well for Casey, a less-than-successful Elvis impersonator in a less-than-successful, if not seedy, beach bar in Panama City, Florida. In fact, things are so bad, Casey and his wife, Jo, are facing eviction, and the bar’s owner, Eddie, is hoping Elvis would leave the building. Truly, things are looking downright dismal for Casey when Eddie’s cousin, a drag queen named Miss Tracy Mills, arrives to save the failing bar with a “new” type of act. Replaced, demoted to bartender, and on the verge of vacating the premises, Casey is pulled back into “show business” when Miss Tracy’s performing companion, Rexy, is discovered too drunk to do her roller skating Edith Piaf number. Quickly attired and tutored on the basics of lip-syncing in drag, Casey does a respectable Edith Piaf and finds he’s traded one segment of lip-syncing show business for another—one with substantially better tips. Casey’s “Georgia McBride” arises as a star from the ashes of his Elvis act.

Yes, that’s the premise of Matthew Lopez’s comedy The Legend of Georgia McBride, now in performances at Flying Anvil Theatre through June 24. This production, directed by Jayne Morgan, is so full of charming performances and snappy comic retorts that one almost feels guilty admitting the play’s flaws. One could almost overlook some borderline plot improbabilities and the fact that it all feels strangely familiar—hints of The Full Monty, perhaps—seeded with healthy doses of philosophizing and LGBTQ didacticism. One might even be inclined to overlook the cinematic nature of Lopez’s gently contrived constructions, a idea made all the more interesting when one learns that Lopez is adapting The Legend of Georgia McBride into a film version produced by, and starring, Jim Parsons as Miss Tracy Mills.

At the top of the charming performances category is My’Chyl Purr as Miss Tracy Mills in a take that illuminates both the theatrical highs and the emotional personal lows of the drag show scene, particularly for those outside the big time of the big cities. Purr’s delivery rhythm and timing is mostly spot on with an energy and tartness that is a joy to witness. And, there was surprising depth to Purr’s character, even though Lopez goes just a little too far with sermonizing speeches.

Strangely, the hardest role to pull off in The Legend of Georgia McBride is that of Casey (Ethan Graham Roeder) who must first paint the character as a somewhat weak, but likable goof who is dedicated to his assumed role as an artist, but is then able to reveal the pivotal moments of transition, the realization and acceptance of drag performance by a straight man. And, of course, we have to believe that Casey is a credible drag performer, even for a cheap bar in the Florida panhandle.

Lopez sets up Casey’s home life with nicely constructed details of his loving relationship with his mostly-understanding wife, Jo (Aleah Vassel). However, one of the strangest plot contrivances is that Casey somehow avoids informing his now pregnant wife of the switch from Elvis/bartender to drag performer for some months, setting up the inevitable surprise confrontation scene when she makes an unexpected visit to the bar.

Providing marvelous supporting characters was Collin Andrews in an impressive dual role of Jason, Casey’s low-end, but sympathetic landlord—and Rexy, Miss Tracy’s headstrong and alcoholic companion performer.

Equally marvelous was bar owner/emcee Eddie (David Dwyer) whose dramatic, natural character creation and delivery can actually make you wonder whether his lines are scripted. They are.

Needless to say, there is a lot of technical complexity to The Legend of Georgia McBride, from the contortions of impressive onstage costume and prop changes (with dressers Crystal-Marie Alberson and Erin Cogburn incorporated into the action) to an interweaving of engaging song tracks throughout. Kudos to costume designer Virginia Baldwin for nailing the essentials of “everyday beach redneck” and to Rodney Gibson for Miss Tracy Mills’ extravagant, but revealingly frayed, costumes.

Amid the mild and entertaining acidity of The Legend of Georgia McBride, there is a poignant sweetness in its painting of artistic and personal  discovery. It’s easy for us to forget that artistic fulfillment comes in all types of packages—and in all types of characters. And that discovery often starts with the basic act of acceptance. Lesson learned.