Neil D’Astolfo’s one-man show Mister Miss America details his attempts to win a Virginia beauty pageant.
Neil D’Astolfo’s Mister Miss America provides many pleasures beyond its nifty title, even though the material treads some pretty familiar ground. In the solo show, the beauty pageant obsessions of gay hero Derek Tyler Taylor (D’Astolfo) take center stage. DTT wants to share the story of his attempt to break the gender barrier at a beauty pageant in southwestern Virginia, where the contestants mostly hail from obscure burgs, such as Bristol, Galax, Martinsville and Radford, and the announcer uses descriptions like “She’s hotter than your pappy’s pistol!” as an introduction.
Beauty pageants have long been fodder for satire on stage and in films (Little Miss Sunshine, Miss Firecracker), although the genre has been dormant for a while. But Taylor’s story—growing up gay in a small town where he endured bullying but found solace in Broadway musicals (and Patti LuPone), determining to break a gender barrier and finding success—is strongly constructed and displays some gifted writing, sprinkled with knowing pop-culture references—“Hand to Gaga!” is one vow. Once he applies a Southern drawl—“There’s blood in the waw-tuh”—the success of the formula becomes obvious.
Under the direction of Tony Speciale, the cheery Taylor first introduces himself and his objective: to become Miss Southwestern Virginia. He not only takes the audience into his confidence, but he assumes an air of familiarity that’s enticing:
D’Astolfo as Derek poses in one of the costumes provided by Hunter Kaczorowski. Photographs by Jeremy Daniel.
Now, I know what y’all thinkin. Y’all thinkin: “Derek, you coocoocachoo. Why—why?—have you chosen to wear sapphire knowin’ full well that coral and amethyst are the most winningest jewel tones in Virginia pageant history!?” But to that I say: Derek Tyler Taylor is a risk-takestress, babies.
He warms up the crowd with some beside-the-point banter, announcing that “as an assistant manager at the Petco, I have developed a sixth sense for intuitin’ peoples’ corresponding breed of dog”; he persuades a couple audience members to stand so he can identify their spirit dog, as it were, by mind reading.
Taylor talks a mile a minute, and D’Astolfo races through the aw-shucks lingo with aplomb: “This is for all the marbles plus that sweet lil’ sack the marbles come in! I been rootin’ and tootin’, alley-oopin’ and shoop-shoopin’ my whole life to get here and, lows and behold, here I am! Can y’all believe it!?”
As Mister Miss Smithville, a title he already possesses, Taylor must ultimately defeat other Virginia contestants, the most prominent of whom is Miss Roanoke, a rival who’s ideally cast as the villainous bitch of the piece: “thumpthumpthumpin’ on that Bible, actin’ like the only fruit of Jesus’ loom and castin’ all manner of stones left, right and sideways,” says Taylor.
The pageant involves a swimsuit competition, talent portion, and a question-and-answer challenge, but the main fun comes from DTT’s arias, tangents and rhapsodies. Preparing to go on stage for the swimsuit competition, he confides with the speed of a runaway train:
I must confess, I ain’t never been to a pool party, but I was born in July, and so when I’m out there, I like to pretend like I’m hostin’ “Derek’s Birthday Beach Bash” at my imaginary above-ground swimmin’ pool, where there’s a volleyball net in the water, and three flavors of Pringles.
The send-up of beauty pageants is delightfully loopy. “Miss Radford,” the announcer asks a contestant solemnly, “your question is: General Robert E. Lee was a famous Virginian. If you could have any superpower, which would you choose?”
For the various competitions, Hunter Kaczorowski has provided a royal blue suit, a variety of colorful gowns, and a red dress for Taylor’s performance of “Rose’s Turn” from Gypsy—as well as silken robes for lounging, and a wildly comic pair of boxer shorts.
D’Astolfo as Derek works the audience.
But the targets are more than gay rights vs. fundamentalist Christianity or savvy townfolk vs. blinkered country folk—a comic staple as far back as Shakespeare (The Winter’s Tale; A Midsummer Night’s Dream) and Ben Jonson (The Alchemist). In dealing with any of them, D’Astolfo’s command of breakneck language is remarkable, even if the subject matter is already familiar and one knows on which side he stands. There is, too, the predictable hard lesson learned, and a moral, but as in life, it’s the journey that’s important. With a performer like D’Astolfo, the primary destination is laughter.
Mister Miss America plays through Aug. 7 at the Rattlestick Playwrights Theater (224 Waverly Place). Evening performances are at 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday; matinees are at 3 p.m. Saturday and Sunday; there is an additional 7 p.m. performance on Aug. 3. For tickets and information, visit afo.nyc.
