Eventually Windale Bafford takes the stage as a drag queen, in a performance that might have the cynics creeping back into the theater, nursing their wounds but drawn by the irresistible sounds of Bafford singing, "What wouldn't I do for love--or money?" This is also a dance number, but Bafford flails his limbs as though attempting to communicate the song's lyrics via semaphore. When performed as a drag act, the play's awkward elements become inspired. Clunky choreography and earnest folk singing are the straw from which drag queens spin...well, if not gold then shiny PVC, which is glamorous enough for my tastes.
Snobbishness and cynicism be damned. After all, what is theater if not the earnest, well-intentioned illusion of fabulousness?