"A plumber's idea of Cleopatra," was WC Fields' description of Mae West. And, even if she lacked the Egyptian queen's variety, West attracted a similarly large army of camp followers - which is very much the point of this amiable Broadway import written by and starring Claudia Shear.
To her credit Shear avoids many of the pitfalls of fag-hagiography by counterpointing the story of West's career with an account of two loners drawn together by a mutual obsession with Mae. Charlie, a film archivist, and Jo, an out-of-work actress, meet in West's tomb, swap movie memories and fall tentatively in love. Not even Jo's discovery that Charlie enjoys donning the star's cast-off dresses can dent their burgeoning relations.
Shear recognises West's iconic power and intriguing two-way relationship with female impersonation without lapsing into gushing idolatry. The remark that "Mae was a pioneer" is greeted with the rejoinder "she just wanted to be famous". And Shear shrewdly observes that, "in New York trouble made her: in Hollywood it destroyed her". This is an apt comment on West's battles with censorship and her descent into self-parody in movies like Myra Breckenridge and Sextette, in which, as a bedizened 85-year-old, she cavorted with priapic musclemen. Even if there is something suspect about the notion that a passion for dead stars is a good basis for a long-term relationship, the show is elegantly staged by James Lapine.
Shear also transforms herself with great style from the frumpish fan to the corseted, peroxided Mae. She gives us the nasal drawl, the sexy strut evoking a truck-driver with hips and the suggestively lowered eyelids constantly drawn flywards.
Shear is also accompanied by two versatile males. Kevin Chamberlin is very good as the shy archivist who can't wait to slip into something tight and gives us a tantalising vignette of a bibulous Fields. Bob Stillman also deftly evokes the mixture of vaudevillians, boxers and showbiz queens with whom West liked to surround herself. There may be nothing very surprising about the revelation that West ended up a sad Norma Desmond trapped inside the persona she had created. But the show offers an affectionate tribute to a unique performer for whom every line told a dirty story.
· Until August 28 Box office: 0870 060 6623
