Big Jessie's Bag of Drag

Jessie gives some priceless (free) careers guidance to any would-be drag star sitting in her audience tonight. If nothing else, you must remember this one, golden piece of advice: “There’s absolutely no talent in it whatsoever. You just shove a load of shit on your face, bung on a dress and act like a fuckwit.”

And what a bunch of fuckwits these guys are. “A load of drunk men in dresses,” declares the announcer. And in the flesh, the luscious ladies do not disappoint. All the essential ingredients to the traditional Australian drag show are here: ‘I Just Want to Fucking Dance’ blares over the sound system as a skinny bloke in a sequined dress does things one had thought impossible for a woman of his, shall we say, experience. And good on him.

In fact, good on the lot of them, because there’s nothing to this show. No premise, no story line, no poncy deeper meaning. It’s just a fat bloke with a multi-coloured bouffant Marie Antoinette would think excessive. And if you can leave this show without a stupid grin on your face and a Festival spring in your step, Dorothy is deserving of far better friends than you.