Lady Bunny, a buxom, blonde drag queen whose false eyelashes are thick and sooty enough to pass for caterpillars, is on the phone with a city official. Would it be possible, she wants to know, in honor of Wigstock, the annual daylong Manhattan gathering of downtown drag queens and their fans, to put a big ol’ wig on the Statue of Liberty, “but only for about eight hours”? The official hangs up.
It is one of the few really amusing scenes in Wigstock, a freewheeling documentary featuring various drag queens lip-synching and dancing their way through vintage ’60s and ’70s songs at the ’93 and ’94 Wigstocks. There also are interviews with the participants on such topics as when they began dressing up (“It started the day I graduated from high school and I walked across that stage in a black gown,” says one), on being gay (“It’s kind of hard to have a girlfriend when you know your legs are better than hers,” says another) or simply proselytizing on behalf of drag (“I recommend that everyone within the sound of my voice should go out and get a wig, a pair of high heels, panty hose if you will, and strut your stuff, girlfriend,” exhorts RuPaul, drag’s biggest crossover star).
A little of this goes a long way and, even at just 86 minutes, Wigstock seems, pardon the expression, padded, (not rated)