The theater on lower Queen Anne Hill is reprising the "Dina Martina Christmas Show," a kitschy and thoroughly campy production that has become a cult favorite in Seattle. It is, for instance, the only show I've ever seen where the audience applauds before the star even appears on stage.
The star is Grady West, who plays Dina Martina, a pudgy dowager whose face looks like a Max Factor experiment gone terribly awry. Her fashion sense is equally weird, and Dina starts off wearing white go-go boots and a way-too-short black and white dress that rides up so high it's obvious that she is, ahem, definitely not a woman.
Dina also fancies herself as a singer, although the description can be applied only in the most forgiving of terms. To get a rough idea of how she sounds, imagine Julia Child getting totally hammered on a tasteful Bordeaux and singing karaoke.
Dina also likes to throw in dance moves when she sings, wildly pumping her arms and stomping about with a fractured sense of timing. The music for the songs comes from popular tunes, but Dina changes the lyrics to fit in with her madcap sense of holiday cheer.
Still, it's one of those situations where a performance is so deliberately bad, it crosses a metaphorical line and actually becomes good. Directed by Kevin Kent, the show is also a total hoot.
Dina starts off by regaling the audience with tales of her worldwide performance tour. It included a stop in "Franch," where she says the population is so well-educated that even young children can speak "Franch."
Mangled language is a hallmark of Dina's performance. She doesn't say Merry Christmas, for example. It's always "Merry Chrishmush," and she also offers up a prayer asking God to bless the many "homocapables" in the audience, as well as the entire "BLT community."
Dina's daughter, Phoebe (pronounced fóh-ebbie), is also featured in the show. She's actually a Raggedy Ann-looking doll whose recorded, monotone voice sounds like Daria on the MTV cartoon show.
Phoebe, it seems, has invented a time machine powered by an exercise machine that Dina has to pump away on in a hilarious moment of physical excess. The device sends Phoebe off on a journey portrayed by TV and film images, along with cool special effects, that are projected on a backstage screen. The girl ends up in some pretty strange places, too, one of which she escapes from only with the help of the audience.
The screen is also used to project traditional Christmas images while Dina belts out a song at one point, but mixed in with the Norman Rockwell stuff are unexpected shots, a plate of bacon among them.
Dina sometimes plays directly to and off the audience, wandering about and handing out Chrishmush presents that included wax lips, a poop pen, and Barbie chocolate coins the night I saw the show.
She also speaks of "Nostrapotomus" predictions, one of which calls for an earthquake that will trap the audience in the theater for a few months. Dina has a plan, though. Food will have to rationed, of course, but she also decides everyone in the audience should be paired up in couples.
Dina even started making the calls about who should be with whom, when a man in the front row caught her eye the night I saw the show, and love was suddenly in the air. You could tell love was in the air because a mirrored disco ball suddenly appeared.
Dina winds up her performance with a routine that is a highlight of the show.
I don't want to give anything away here, but let's just say it's one of the more surreal moments in a show full of high weirdness and outrageous strangeness. It's also a fitting end to a Chrishmush show that shouldn't be missed.
The "Dina Martina Christmas Show" continues through Sunday, Dec. 22 at On The Boards/Behnke Center for Contemporary Performance, 100 W. Roy St. Prices: $18. Tickets/information: 217-9888.
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