A little over halfway through her newest project, RuPaul’s Drag Race superstar Alaska Thunderfuck nurses a glass of whiskey while bemoaning the circumstances she finds herself in. “Could you imagine?” she shouts. “A musical about drag queens. Who would be dumb enough to buy a ticket to see that?”
If the audience at Manhattan’s New World Stages on a chilly Monday night in November is any indication, quite a few people. Drag: The Musical, which debuted its off-Broadway run back in late October, takes the well-trodden subject matter at its center and aims to create something new — and, refreshingly, something radically honest.
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This latest iteration of the show — which she stars in and co-wrote with Tomas Costanza and Ashley Gordon — has been an adjustment for the Drag Race winner. “Doing eight shows a week is kind of unhinged, and it’s much more work than I am used to doing,” Alaska tells Billboard. “But I’m also grateful that, if I’m going to do eight shows a week, it’s this show and it’s these people.”
On its surface, the two-hour rock musical tells the story of two competing drag bars — The Fish Tank and The Cat House — as they struggle to stay open amid financial pressures. But underneath that familiar exterior is a love letter to the art of drag, and a timely coming-of-age story about self-expression and authenticity in the face of societal rejection.
Along with a number of positive reviews, the show has received one very important co-sign from venerated queer idol Liza Minelli. The legendary performer serves as a producer of the show, and introduces the audience to the story through a surprise voiceover at the very start of the performance. “I mean, that is an actual ICON, in all-capital letters. We couldn’t be more lucky and grateful to have her fairy dust sprinkled upon us,” Alaska says. “It doesn’t get old — every night I’m back stage and I’m in a furious quick change, but I am loudly saying the words along with her. I still cannot believe it.”
The show exists within an established tradition of musicals examining drag as an art form. Over the last few decades, shows like La Cage Aux Folles and Kinky Boots aimed to present drag to an audience that may have otherwise never seen it. Nick Adams, who stars in Drag as the Fish Tank’s glamorous proprietor Alexis Gillmore, originated the role of Felicia Jollygoodfellow in the 2011 Broadway production of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert — and yet he says Drag: The Musical stands out amongst its prior counterparts as a particularly honest look at the lives of drag queens.
“This show is very representative of drag in 2024, which means it’s not specific to one idea,” he explains. “It’s not just female illusion, it’s a lot more than that, and we really capture the essence of that in a way that [musicals] didn’t before. I think it challenges people to look at what the art form of drag is outside of those parameters.”
Alaska agrees, adding that the original intension behind the story was to take the tropes of past drag musicals and flip them on their head. “I did not want the main story to be about the straight people learning about drag culture, I want it to be about the drag queens and their lives,” she explains. “You’re on the drag queens’ turf, and it’s their world, and the straight guy is the one who is constantly confused and saying ‘what the f–k is going on here.’ It’s an inversion of that formula.”
Drag: The Musical has been in the works for nearly a decade — after beginning to write the show in 2016, Alaska, Costanza and Gordon brought their vision for this story to life with a 2022 concept album, featuring stars from the world of musical theater, stand-up comedy and drag itself. The trio fleshed out the show’s script and put on a limited run of the live show at The Bourbon Room in Los Angeles, before transferring the show to its current off-Broadway home.
As Alaska recalls, the evolution of the musical has been nothing short of transformational. “The only constant has been change. Every time we put the show up, we learned more about the structure, how to make it funnier and better,” she explains. “We were changing this right up to the debut, because you just want to fine-tune everything and get it to its peak form.”
Adams, who has been involved with the project since the 2022 album, remembers early performances at The Bourbon Room, and how the bar atmosphere provided its own set of pros and cons for the show. “There was a scene in the Bourbon Room show where I was laying over top of a bar and my character is at his lowest point,” he says. “And I look down, and this woman in the audience is just chowing down on some chicken wings and drinking her beer. It was just so unique.”
That sort of interaction underlined part of the show’s charm. Where other portrayals of drag focus on the glitz and glamour of the art form, Drag: The Musical leans heavily into the fact that drag, at its core, is messy. The show’s queens (portrayed by bonafide drag stars Jujubee, Jan Sport, Luxx Noir London and others) often find themselves cramped into closets that act as dressing rooms, while early showstopper “Drag Is Expensive” breaks down the financial reality of performing in custom-made costumes night after night.
“I always felt like in movies and in musicals that deal with drag, it’s always ‘look at how fabulous everything is,’” Alaska says. “We wanted you to be able to smell the f–king bar that these queens are working in. The floor is sticky, it’s all kind of a mess. That is the drag that I come from, where you’re in the kitchen and your mirror is propped up on the walk-in refrigerator.”
Yet despite the show’s many lighthearted moments, Drag: The Musical goes out of its way to touch on real issues facing the community it celebrates. Fish Tank queen Dixie Coxworth (played by Liisi LaFontaine) spends an entire song explaining the often-complicated politics of being an AFAB drag queen (“One of the Boys”). A particularly arch portrayal of real estate investor Rita LaRitz (J. Elaine Marcos) highlights the real-life urban gentrification of queer spaces. A secondary plot involving Alexis’ brother Tom (New Kids on the Block’s Joey McIntyre) lays out the pitfalls of straight privilege through multiple musical numbers.
“That’s a tricky thing with theater — sometimes, plotting can feel so on the nose like you’re trying to check every box, that it becomes a question of ‘what story are we actually telling now?’” Adams says. “But I think we do a delicate dance between being muppets and then all of a sudden being serious performers going, ‘This is a real problem.’”
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Even with a multitude of issues touched on throughout the show, Drag never falls into the trap of feeling preachy or oversimplified, a fact Alaska credits to her work with Costanza and Gordon. “I’m a drag queen, Tomas is straight guy, and Ash is a straight woman who does drag and writes music for drag queens,” she explains. “We all brought our own perspective, we trusted each other immensely.”
Perhaps the show’s most impactful plotline comes in the form of 10-year-old Brendan (played by Yair Keydar and Remi Tuckman), who is utterly fascinated by drag, but doesn’t have the unequivocal support of his family to explore why that is. In the tear-jerking ballad “I’m Just Brendan,” the young man doesn’t come out or express dissatisfaction with his gender identity — he just likes what he likes and doesn’t understand why others have a problem with a boy playing dress up.
The song was written long before the conversation of children’s involvement at drag shows became a political cudgel for right-wing lawmakers, and Alaska says that the show hasn’t changed its Brendan plotline to reflect that reality. “When I’m loving drag the most is when I’m seeing it from a childlike place of expression. So, we wanted to touch on that and connect to that part of drag, because it’s often the best part of it,” she says. “This is just a young person who wants to express himself in a way that he’s not currently allowed to. That speaks to literally everybody who’s a human person.”
Even though the show doesn’t delve directly into the current political reality for drag performers, Adams can’t help but notice that something shifted after Donald Trump won the election in early November. “I felt the shift that Wednesday after Election Day,” he says. “The crowd was electric that night. People in the audience were placing more importance on the show than they did the Monday before. Queer art is even more important than it was a few weeks ago, and we’re now almost charged with more power.”
The production, meanwhile, shows very few signs of slowing down — tickets are currently still available through March, and a number of upcoming casting substitutions promise a longevity that often alludes other off-Broadway productions.
When it comes to the musical’s Broadway aspirations, Alaska simply shrugs. “I don’t know how all of that works, it’s not my world — I don’t understand what circumstances have to happen for a transfer to happen. But of course we’d love to make it to Broadway,” she says with a smirk. “Who has a Broadway theater we can borrow? I’m ready, I’m flexible, let’s do it.”
