It's Edna Time

Though the Colonial Theater is characterized by very decorative baroque-style architecture, the most striking visual image gracing the hall last Wednesday was the projection image of Dame Edna on the back wall of the stage _ until, of course, the Dame herself took the stage with her ever-present rhinestone glasses and bright pink lipstick.

Yes, indeed _ old Dame Edna Everage, the alter-ego and brainchild of Australian comedian Barry Humphries, is a celebrity of a grand scale, and if you aren't aware of that before the show, she certainly makes sure you know it by the end. And, unfortunately, it seems that her oversized ego might have gotten in the way of this particular production, which failed to live up to its reputation.

A Night with Dame Edna: The Show That Cares brought the cult sensation to a surprisingly packed house for a midweek evening. Before the lady herself came on stage, a screen lowered and the audience watched a short film of the highlights of the Dame's 30-year career.

Self-described as "the most talented woman in the world," Dame Edna does in fact have quite a few accomplishments to her name. She's had three successful stage shows in Britain, her own talk show, and has earned a Tony in addition to appearing on Jeopardy and Ally McBeal.

As the screen lifted a voice welcomed the audience to the show and instructed the audience to "look at Dame Edna when she's talking to you." As a spotlight shone on a vase of gladiolas, Dame Edna came out on stage in all her glory, wearing a silver lame coat striped with pink faux fur. Her dancers clad in tuxedo leotards helped with her coat revealing a rhinestone-studded pink evening gown.

She immediately launched to a song about her mother called "Look at Me When I'm Talking to You," after which she addressed the members of the audience by their seating section. Those in the top balcony she dubbed "paupers" but later changed their title to "les miserables" or "mizzies" for short. She promised lavish attention to that section of the audience saying, "I'll glance up there in strict proportion to how much you've paid." She came up with other clever names for seating sections including "parakeets", "ashtrays" and "fringe-dwellers".

Edna continued this trend of audience interaction for most of the show, poking fun at people's outfits or ad-libbing as latecomers were seated. At times the results were hilarious, but mostly they just seemed mean-spirited and downright stupid. Yet, in a bit where Dame Edna makes fun of the senior citizens in the audience, she succeeds in summing up the general sentiment of the show with a single line: "This is a perfect show to bring a senior citizen to because there is no storyline."

At one point, she borrowed shoes from some of the women in the audience, and proceeded to "read" them, alleged "psychic powers" (also aided by a pair of tongs). She declared one shoe toxic, throwing them all in a hazardous waste container, and offered fuzzy purple bedroom slippers for the women to wear for the remainder of the show.

When she returned to the stage after the intermission _ dubbed in the playbill as "a pause for reflection," _ the Dame, like every good diva, had changed into yet another ostentatious outfit. This time it was a bright magenta evening gown, gaudily adorned with sparkly sequins. For most of the second act, Edna talked about her son Kenny _ who seemed to fit into every gay stereotype imaginable. She proceeded to sing yet another song, this time called "Friends of Kenny," which offered a parody of society's views on homosexuality.

Another highlight from this act was a phone call Dame Edna made to the mother of an audience member. And in another rare moment of kindness, to her audience Dame Edna ordered dinner for two audience members from the restaurant Olives, served by the chef (Todd English) himself.

The show ended with Dame Edna tossing Gladiolas into the crowd in which she encouraged the audience's participation _ especially in making lewd gestures with the flowers.

But while the show was amusing enough I was not bowled over by the Dame. Hey, I'm in college, if I want to see catty, petty, self-important social climbers I'll go to a frat party. While some stuff was funny, I just don't think the Dame is for this generation.