Outrageous!

The title of this small gem hasn't aged as well as the film itself, which is certainly different (refreshingly so), but hardly outrageous in this semi-enlightened age, The bittersweet story of a gay hairdresser and part time drag queen, who befriends a pregnant schizophrenic recently escaped from a Toronto snake pit, might seem to be stretching the limits of romantic comedy, but the film succeeds as an offbeat celebration of human individuality, warts and all. What makes it special is the way it refuses to pin down a unique relationship: Robin and Liza are simply indifferent to each other's differences. None of their friends (gay or straight) can understand them, but in retrospect they aren't really so odd a couple: one is schizoid by nature; the other by vocation. The message is simple: be yourself, even if half the time you're someone else, and the low-budget look adds a raw edge of realism to the scenario, blunting the sentimentality and giving the humor a grey lining of melancholy. The story loses focus only when the emphasis shifts away from the couple to Robin's stage career, a showcase for actor Craig Russell's pitch-perfect drag impersonations—from Mae West to Betty Davis to Ella Fitzgerald.

["If a caterpillar was afraid of wings it would never become a butterfly, and people would say, 'Look, there's a worm on the tree....' But they'd never seen it spinning colors into the air......"]

I first saw "Outrageous" 22 years ago, (this will sound strange) I was so moved by it's greatness and at the time didn't have a VCR that I recorded it with a hand held tape recorder-audio-and that was how I 'watched' the movie for years til I got it on video. That is how incredibly touching, and GREAT this movie was and is! In it's unique way it almost reaches out and literally touches your heart if you let it. (And maybe even teach you a thing or two about life, love, people, and most important, FRIENDS!!)

Outrageous is a very special film. Imagine you live in the 70s and you were in a club or theatre anywhere in Canada or the USA. The announcer says: Ladies and Gentlemen. Mrs. Judy Garland. You think by yourself. Judy Garland? I thought this woman is dead. But the women on the stage is not Judy Garland but Craig Russell (a Canadian), one of the best female impersonators of our century. Because he was not only able to imitate the look of his idols (many great actresses and singers from the 30s to the 60s). He could also imitate the voices of the women. In the film he plays a gay character (which he really was) who shares a flat with a schizophrenic woman and makes his unbelievable shows at the evening. Craig Russell died too early of AIDS and he made only two films: Outrageous and the sequel. Craig Russell was a unique person and after his death Canada and the world had lost one of its greatest idols.

What an unexpected treat.Long before Pricilla and all the others, there was Craig Russell. His impersonations remains vividly embedded in my brain because besides the look and mannerisms, I perceived the soul of the characters in question. They are not caricatures but tributes. His Judy Garland is heartbreaking and his Mae West hilarious.As if all that was not enough we have a screenplay of such intelligence and wit that I'm surprised this film is not a classic. When Holly's doctor finds out she lives with a man, he tries to warn her about the risks (she's bi polar) of an emotional, sexual entanglement. She reassures him telling him "Don't worry, we sleep in separate worlds" Lovely.

At first I reacted against the sentimentality of the madness-as-nonconformism theme, which is really mostly down to Hollis McLaren; as Craig Russell's heavily medicated roommate, she gets more than a little familiar when she expresses her downturns with hushed gibberish or staring through her fingers. But in between episodes she really gets to articulate the bill of outsiders' rights, and Russell is right there with her. No comparable clichés in this film's depiction of the Toronto gay scene, a diverse yet claustrophobic enclave that places transvestites on the bottom of a depressingly rigid hierarchy - an economic threat to closeted hairdressers, stealth patriarchs to the second-wave dykes. At a time when cinematic queerness was synonymous with effete self-loathing, this sympathetic and detailed depiction of a complex, vital skid-row subculture was decades ahead of its time, and has real time-capsule value today. All of which to say is that they're far from just marking time between Russell's impersonations, which are definitive even if he did steal them from Mae West herself. Put the two together and you've got a film that synthesizes social engagement and entertainment value with almost unprecedented verve.