There is "Q," and then there is "q." In one version of the string of letters in current use to denote alternative sexualities, LGBTQQI, the first "Q" is for "queer," and the second for "questioning." At the start of Mommy Queerest at the Exit Theatre, Kat Evasco argues that the questioning "Q" should actually be lower-cased since it lacks the commitment of the other initials. While Evasco definitively declares herself a lesbian deserving of an upper-case "L," she spent years coping with a heartbroken mother certain her daughter was destined for hell, or at least for heaven with her eyes poked out. But all along, Mom was sharing a bed with another woman who took refuge in claims of a lower-case "q" status.
Evasco's one-woman show, co-written with and directed by John Caldon, is an explosively funny and seductively revealing look back in bewilderment as her own sexuality came into focus amid the mores of Filipino-American culture and a mother in denial. Graphic sexual remembrances that might seem shocking if simply written out here become part of the high-comedy fabric of the show thanks to Evasco's affable, informal, and even jubilant presentation and a matter-of-fact delivery of what could be disturbing revelations.
Developed by Guerilla Rep and DIVAfest from a 2011 workshop production, this official premiere of Mommy Queerest has a simple but imaginative set by Caldon, often-hilarious video elements by Julien Elstob, and a busy sound design by Alejandro D. Acosta. The show goes far beyond a single performer taking occasional steps away from center stage as Mommy Queerest often erupts into elaborate exaggerations on the story Evasco has to tell.
At one point, we are thrust into a Jerry Springer episode as Evasco and her mother confront each other before Evasco's abusive girlfriend and her mother's live-in companion are brought onto the stage as accusations, profanities, and even chairs are thrown �" and remember, this is a solo performance. At other points, Evasco evokes her story in Filipino soap opera styles or as the pastor at her mother's church working the center aisle as she preaches against homosexuality.
The tale ends on a note of reconciliation and understanding between mother and daughter, with Evasco claiming her right to go to heaven. "It doesn't matter if I eat pussy or suck dick," she says, "I'm a loving person."
And on opening night, there was physical evidence in our midst. In a curtain-call speech, Evasco introduced her mother and her mother's companion seated in the audience holding a bouquet of flowers.
Mommy Queerest will run at Exit Theatre through March 29. Tickets are $15-$25, available at brownpapertickets.com/event/547871.