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Popular Culture Review
transgender performance. Drag for disguise and for drama is nothing new or
special. Historically, there were famous cases of cross-dressing for the purpose
of disguise as in Joan of Arc and her Chinese counterpart, Mulan. There is no
reason to believe that drag for disguise is limited in time and place because
anyone, anywhere, who wants to become incognito for whatever reason might
employ cross-dressing as a means for camouflage. As mentioned in the
beginning of this article, drag for drama also has a long history of social
acceptance. In the United States, impersonating the opposite sex by straight
actors and actresses for the purpose of public entertainment, especially in
comedies, can be traced back to 19th century vaudeville. The enormously
popular 1950s TV series, I Love Lucy, featured many drag episodes, including
Lucille Ball, the star of the series, in male attire. The 1959 box-office hit Some
Like It Hot, starring Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis, and Jack Lemmon, had the
two male stars in drag for almost the entire movie. Like many others, / Love
Lucy and Some Like It Hot used transgenderism as a comic device.
Drag for desire, however, is an entirely different issue. In a less tolerant
culture, such as in the United States, the desire to dress in the clothing of the
opposite sex is more often than not seen as deviant. Gay men who cross-dress
are especially vulnerable to the stereotype of extreme deviance because of the
combined effects of three perceived abnormalities: desire to have sex with the
same sex, desire to dress like the opposite sex, and desire to have sex with the
same sex in the role of the opposite sex. Perhaps in response to those compound
prejudices, transgender theatrical performances by gay entertainers in the United
States tend to take the two extreme forms discussed earlier: the “play it safe”
approach such as the “La Cage” or the “defiant” approach such as in the 801
Cabaret. The former avoids arousing the sensibilities and hostilities of the
audience, and the latter challenges, attacks, and attempts to convert the audience
to their perspective. Both approaches are coping mechanisms in a hostile
environment.
In Thailand, both the public and the transgendered performers see the
kathoey identity as biological destiny: nature has destined them to be the second
female in a three-sex human race. This cultural interpretation has provided a
more relaxed social climate and it shows up in the cabaret production. The
kathoeys play themselves or any roles, male or female. They love as
heterosexuals or homosexuals, and they love whom they’re not supposed to
love. Transgenderism in Thai cabarets is upfi’ont and undisguised; it’s not a
political or comic device. The kathoeys neither have to politicize the issue nor to
placate anyone.
In summary, representations of transgenderism in theatre reaffirm a
simple truth: oppression restrains creative potential and fi*eedom unleashes it. In
cultures that oppress transgenderism, transgendered performers are limited in
their roles, doing only what they are—female impersonators. On the other hand,
when transgenderism is honestly embraced, it opens up the theatre of the untold