Neanderthals, Fire Poles and Medusa

Eddie Izzard was fabulous. Over the past couple of days I've caught myself smiling as a bit from the show popped into my mind. He covered his usual dizzying array of topics - seeing-eye dogs, Greek Mythology, customs agents, the invention of fire, Christopher Walken - in his brilliant circuitous fashion. If you've seen any of his shows, you know his performances are almost impossible to describe (and if you haven't, you should) - as Eddie says, he basically gets on stage and "talks bollocks" for a couple of hours.

Things got off to a shaky start for us, though. Sheila and I arrived at Holly's at about 5:00, which gave us plenty of time to eat some Chinese take-out and get to the Shubert in Boston for an 8:00 show. Unfortunately, due to an unknown traffic catastrophe beyond our control, it took us an hour and a half to get to the theater, putting us in our seats a good half hour after the show started. I could hear his voice and the audience laughing as we climbed the stairs to our section. I'll never forget seeing him standing there on stage as the usher opened the door: the long, military style blue satin coat, the red corset top, the micro-mini black skirt, the fishnet stockings and the black stiletto boots. Just gorgeous. As if all that glamour wasn't enough, Mr. Izzard has acquired his very own set of breasts ("down at the shop," as he told Charlie Rose), which filled out his corset tops nicely, but interfered with his microphone at times.

A selection of the very appropriate Tom Jones was played during intermission, after which Eddie emerged in a slinky, spaghetti-strapped black number, slit way the hell up to here. I love the way he struts/swaggers onto the stage, looking not so much like a woman, but very much like a bloke who likes to wear makeup and women's clothes. (Eddie, however, would take exception to that - he says he doesn't wear women's clothes, he wears his own clothes. To paraphrase him from the Charlie Rose appearance, he crosses no boundaries because he doesn't believe in those boundaries and is therefore simply a "vestite", since there is no "trans-ing" involved).

Much of the show is a blur to me, partly because I spent the first half hour or so decompressing from the traffic nightmare and partly because most of what I do soon becomes a blur to me. (I'll be snatching up the DVD as soon as it becomes available, especially since we missed the first half hour - he refers back constantly to the earlier parts of his show, and there were some jokes I know I missed). Some of the highlights, though, would include Medusa at the beauty parlor, the failed seeing-eye dog pushing its master into traffic, the Doppler cats, the Sirens, the child-wearing horses and the Christopher Walken impersonation. The stage decoration was also memorable, with military-style camouflage netting on either side of the stage, showcasing the masculine/feminine juxtaposition that is Eddie Izzard.

Take away the skirts, heels and makeup, though, and what you're left with is a very funny, intelligent man. Or, a Sexie bloke who talks bollocks.