Bent Wit Cabaret visits Oberon

Bent Wit Cabaret explores the ins, outs, and in-betweens of identity.

Bent Wit Cabaret on Sunday, June 13, hosted a special identity-themed show in honor of that weekend's Boston Pride festivities.

Bent Wit seems to be the lesbian's answer to the male-dominated word of drag; although in keeping with the show's theme, this reporter is loathe to categorize any performer. Better planned and more thoroughly rehearsed, Bent Wit makes up for in practiced skill what it lacks in improvisation and that magical devil-may-care sensibility that some would say accompanies traditional drag shows.

On Sunday evening, round tables at Oberon (2 Arrow St., Cambridge) were sconsed in burgundy cloths with two or four black chairs each facing the stage. An inert disco ball cast rainbow refracted light on the waiting crowd after the opening act -- quartet Elephant Tango Ensemble -- launched into the most recent in a series of covers, this time "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift.

The four musicians were conspicuously decked out as members of the Village People, and found an interesting medium between blues, rock, and queer country-western with a variety of instruments, including a xylophone. Their version of "When You're Strange" by the Doors ended up sounding more like something that should be played under a circus big top.

The tables filled up quickly in the final minutes of the Elephant Tango Ensemble's pre-show, which, in retrospect, sounded nothing like a tango. Or an elephant, for that matter.

A largely pregnant blonde sipped a drink and smoked a cigarette, bobbing to the music on the fringe of the audience. This picture would in any other situation inspire horror, but the crowd was well acquainted with Bent Wit's penchant for pushing boundaries with their particular brand of stage humor. Karin Webb (the aforementioned blonde, who -- worry not -- was not actually pregnant) is known as "UnAmerika's Sweetheart," one half of the business (and life) partnership behind Bent Wit. Both Webb and her wife Jill Gibson are prominent stage fixtures at any Bent Wit show, members of all-female drag troupe All the Kings Men, and fearless performers.

Webb, soon introduced to the audience as heroine "Super Pregnant," was joined on stage by other "superheroes" -- Lainey Schooltree as the "Pene-traitor," wearing what she called a "boyfriend torture device," but what the audience easily recognized as a strap-on; "The Gusher," a parody of the Gulf Coast oil spill played by Sugar Dish; "Glitter," a.k.a. Femme Brul�e, decked out in a purple metallic bra and miniskirt set; and Mary Dolan, an aged granny complete with feathered angel wings and a hat piled high with fake fruit that under the wig was undoubtedly Jill Gibson.

After a "super" introduction from the heroes, Miss Lolita LaVamp sashayed saucily around the stage to Christina Aguilera's "I'm Not Myself Tonight" in a black and red boustier, ruffled black panties, and a huge red rose holding back her black curls.

Mary Dolan, the self-proclaimed "queen of the fruits," soon reappeared. "I wore these fruits for you gays!" she squawked, pointing to her hat, which harkens back to Chiquita Banana. Dolan mentioned Boston Pride, saying, "You are still celebrating, slash drunk." By way of introduction to the show's theme, Dolan asked, "Who's Mary without her fruits? Who's Rick the lighting designer without his pants? These are things we're gonna think about." As the audience giggled and clapped, Mary urged her guests to imbibe. "Go crazy, drink a lot, it's the weekend still."

Aaron Cohen, the show's technical director, then stepped forward to introduce the members of the tech crew one by one to the audience's applause. From sound engineers to spotlight operators to stage manager Duncan Jenner -- who continually fired orange rubber-tipped Nerf darts at Cohen throughout his monologue -- each member was listed and subsequently applauded. In the interest of the show's underlying theme of "Identity," the members of the tech crew -- normally consigned to the backstage area -- each took their turn in the spotlight.

The next act, inexplicably called Box Five, consisted of Mary Bichner on piano and vocals and Eliza Kopczynska on violin. Bichner and Kopczynska proved to be an impeccably talented duo. The Elephant Tango Ensemble joined in on Box Five's second number, "The Odyssey." The lighting scheme for this set had been specifically designed to coincide with Bichner's synesthesia -- the musician sees certain colors whenever she hears certain sounds. The lights flashed red, blue, yellow, and orange in a pattern that, strangely enough, made sense when paired with the haunting music, reminiscent of a darker Ingrid Michaelson.

Bichner took on some of the native Russian Kopczynska's accent while the violinist gently rocked her instrument like a baby, waiting for her solo. In "Cease Fire," which followed a waltz-like and distinctly eastern European rhythm, Kopczynska dropped to her knees and struck her violin strings sharply with the bow, adding a sense of urgency to Bichman's already desperate lyrics and piano, cementing Box Five's place high on the list of the cabaret's best acts.

Spoken word artist Kit Yan was next on the evening's agenda, following a successful appearance at Boston Pride. Yan's enthusiastic gesticulation seemed wild but upon investigation, was deliberate and controlled as he addressed his traditional Asian family's version of recycling. Yan's second monologue encapsulated his never-ending search for the perfect top, much to the crowd's enjoyment.

Baratunde Thurston next took the stage with a slideshow presentation that guided his memoirs. Thurston recounted for the audience his new motto: WWOD, or What Would Obama Do? The stand-up comic and author tackled slavery, his D.C. upbringing (� la "The Wire"), Facebook applications, and why black people are important.

In a mini sketch, Sugar Dish bounded into the audience dressed as Alice in Wonderland over to Mary Dolan lounging as the Caterpillar, so interestingly decked out that Schooltree could hardly keep a straight face. The two discussed definitions of "queer" in character until Femme Brul�e emerged as the Queen of Hearts and chased Alice off stage.

Karin Webb next commanded everyone's attention as she explored the meaning of relationships while systematically removing her clothes. The crowd rubbernecked while she strutted around the room, her voice guiding their hungry eyes. By the time she'd made it back to stage, all that was left were her bra (soon to disappear, revealing tasseled nipples), panties, and fishnet stockings. Far sexier than what was left, however, was Webb's command of the audience. Warm putty in her hands, more than one spectator's mouth hung slack.

Aside from a sound snafu involving a video by Moira Brady and Randy Bush -- which was, after a second start, otherwise hilarious -- each act went off without a hitch.

Sugar Dish tied up the show with what began as a burlesque strip tease of the standard -- albeit titillating -- variety. Dish, also known as Vanessa White, then pushed the envelope a little further. The music ended and, in silence, White went through backstage procedures in full view of the audience. She pulled off her dramatic fake eyelashes, painfully removed her nipple tassels, took off her wig, and undressed completely, packing her exotic minutiae in a hard-shell suitcase. Wearing plain blue jeans and an undistinguished t-shirt, White marched off the stage very much out of character to explosive applause, ending the show by baring it all.

Bent Wit entertains at Oberon on the second Sunday of every month. Visit axe2ice.com for more information and advance tickets, and prepare for the sixth show in this must-see series: "Mystery" debuts August 8.