Alaska Thunderfuck 5000 on Bringing “Drag: The Musical” to NYC
The drag superstar tells us about balancing the glossy, messy, realistic and heartfelt sides of the art form
Developed over many years and debuting in LA in 2017, Drag: The Musical has just started its off-Broadway run. Currently starring Alaska Thunderfuck 5000 and Nick Adams along with well-known drag performers Jujubee and Luxx Noir London, the show was developed by Alaska (aka Justin Andrew Honard), Tomas Costanza and Ashley Gordon; and just last week brought Liza Minelli on as a producer.
Focused on two drag houses “both alike in indignity,” Drag: The Musical centers on the rivalry between the Fish Tank, led by Alexis Gillmore (played by Nick Adams), and the Cathouse with Kitty Galloway (Alaska’s character) at the helm. A story that navigates identity, family and forgiveness, the show might be packed with glitter, glitz, feathers, wigs, wordplay, puns, posing, dancing, singing and Broadway bops, but it also embraces the gritty, messy and tender moments.
We spoke with Alaska ahead of the NYC debut, about musicals, Rusicals, creative influences, wigs, performance problems and creating a show that will make audiences laugh—and hopefully also cry.
Drag is an art form, no doubt. But do you self-describe as a drag artist?
When I go to another country and they ask me to write my occupation on a form, I write “artist.” That’s not because I’m like, “Chica-ca-ca! I’m a lofty artist,” it’s because I don’t want to get further questioning from people. But I do feel like at my core, drag is my chosen art form—the art form that chose me. Believe me, I tried other avenues and they never worked, but it was when drag came to me, and I came to it, that’s when things started to make sense, and things started to really like work, and I had a vision, and I had an idea of what I was doing. I’m grateful for artists like RuPaul and Jackie Beat, who are drag queens, but they get to do kind of everything. They get to be an actor, and they get to put out music, and they get to write a book, and they get to be a model and be on stage and be funny and do all of that stuff because I like doing all of the stuff.
The show embraces the not-so-glam or polished side of drag—maybe some of the messier parts. Why was that important to share with audiences?
Because often you see stories that are about drag or that feature drag queens and it’s like feathers and a sassy comment and that’s it. But if you’ve ever done drag or been in a drag queen dressing room, you know that the toilet is leaking and the ice machine is where you set your fucking mirror, and I wanted to capture that essence of that reality of drag so that it had authenticity and it didn’t feel like just a sort of one-note representation of what it means to be drag.
You have blended real-life relatability with high drag fantasy and the absurdity of breaking into song. Was that a balance that came organically or did you have to really work at it?
It feels like it was kind of that balance was struck even as we were writing it, before there were any other people involved because we knew that we wanted to fire on all cylinders. This isn’t a Rusical. We don’t want to just get a few cheap laughs and then get out. I mean, you’re laughing, it’s absurd and it’s stupid, but also there’s some serious things going on. It might really touch you in a place you weren’t expecting—your heart or in your spirit or your inner child. That was really important and we wanted that balance. Once we had audiences, we were like, “Oh people are crying during the song. This is great.”
Do you prepare differently to perform as Alaska vs your character Kitty Galloway in the show?
Kitty is different from me in a lot of ways. She’s kind of like Joan Crawford-ish. She’s in control, she’s got her eyes on everyone and she’s keeping everyone calm in the face of complete disaster because she knows exactly what to do. She says everything right and speaks very flowery and eloquently. She’s basically a lot of things that I’m not; like, I have complete, crippling doubts about everything. But as far as preparing goes, I do the vocal warm-ups that I would normally do. It’s still my body and my voice…but I have black hair.
She has range.
[laughs] I’m an actress!
Speaking of black hair—there’s a little Frank-N-Furter, but maybe also some John Waters and Divine, La Cage Aux Folles, punk throughout a few different eras. Was there anything specific that you wanted to draw from when it comes to music, costume or aesthetics in the show?
It’s all of those things that you mentioned. And a lot of that is Tomas, because he’s a rock’n’roll straight guy. The drag he likes isn’t the pretty, polished, nice drag; he likes the gritty. He likes the gender fuck. He likes it to be a little bit sideways. And I’m that way too. My favorite musicals were always the wacko musicals, like I love Hair and I love Rocky Horror. Coming at the show with that in our blood really helped bring all of that out in all of these girls.
The show was developed over many years and you keep tweaking it as you go, but can you tell us a little about the changes you’ve been making since performing it?
It was really once we had human beings perform it that it became a living, breathing thing. That’s when it really snapped into place for me and I was like, “This is fierce. This is major. This isn’t just a thing in our imaginations. It’s real.” Getting to hear people who are amazing at singing sing these songs and watching people who are fucking hilarious say these jokes and then make things that aren’t even jokes into jokes—that’s been really thrilling. We’re at a place now where we’re fine-tuning, and a lot of it is like algebra; trying to make the jokes that are a laugh into a totally gut-busting laugh. That’s where we’re at now.
There are obviously plenty of similarities between Broadway and drag performances, but were there any different skills or muscles you’ve been working at more in the show?
It’s hard doing the same thing over and over again. We’re doing eight shows a week. But I will say our musical is very living and breathing so it is kind of different every night. So my fear of like, “Oh God, I have to do the same thing, and I have to say it the same way”—that fear was alleviated once we were doing the show. And drag is like that. Something that’s really funny today might not be funny tomorrow, and vice versa.
And there’s so much that can go wrong. Your shoe might fall off or your fucking hair might get caught on a thing, like Vida Boheme, in which case, we go with it! The show doesn’t come to a screeching halt. I was scared of that sort of doing the same thing every night, but I found once we were doing it, it’s like, we’re all still drag queens.
Your experience surely prepared you for all kinds of performance issues. Do you find yourself leaning into the problems if and when they arise?
Oh, I love it when things go wrong. It’s the best. Someone’s phone went off during my one serious moment, my “this is my heart on the platter” kind of moment. A person in the front row, their phone went off and they answered it and started texting. So I did what I had to do: I addressed it. I worked it into the scene and it was one of the funniest moments ever.
My phone going off during a show is a true nightmare, but then to actually answer it is unfathomable.
[laughs] Patti LuPone would not be having it.
I imagine you got into drag because it’s creative and fun, and a place that you were welcomed and belonged, but there also seems to be an expectation that drag queens are not just performers and entertainers, but also activists and educators when it comes to the world of drag and, maybe even more broadly, the entire queer community. Did you feel any pressure in that way?
Yeah, totally. It’s wild because when I first started drag I did it because it was fun and I could get drunk while I was making money, which was all I could ask for when I was in my early twenties and I was starting drag but like since it’s gone on and it’s evolved, I do feel a responsibility to be aware of what’s going on in the world, and we do have to be activists as drag queens have always been. Whether it’s during the AIDS crisis or whether it’s during Stonewall, there have always been drag queens who have brought people together and then brought them to action. I do feel that in my career.
In the show, it was more heart-driven. We were like, “This was how I felt.” The character of Brendan, who’s 10 years old, that’s how I felt as a sensitive young person who wasn’t sure how to navigate. And it’s, “what would it have been like had I understood what the fuck drag was at a young age?” How much different and how much better my life would have been as a young person? That was what we were working with.
Then once we started doing the show, years passed and now children and drag queens are a hot-button national news story. We never could have predicted on our bingo card that’s what would happen. But I challenge anybody to come see the show and not walk away seeing the value of the art form of drag on everybody’s life, whether you’re young or you’re older or straight or queer or whatever.
If you had to describe the show in five words?
Fierce and cunty and hilarious and touching and drag. You will laugh, and I hope that you cry. It’s a real-ass musical with real-ass talented people and I would love for everybody to come see it because I’m really proud of it.
What are your thoughts?