When you think of a Disney parade, you’re probably imagining a spectacle at Magic Kingdom or Disneyland with dozens of characters, costumes, and songs. But would a living room parade of homemade costumes and a one-child cast come to mind? All of us Disney fans have tried to bring the magic alive at home, but perhaps none of us have replicated the parades as well as stage star Rob Madge. In his recent run of My Son’s A Queer (But What Can You Do?) at New York City Center, Madge explores how homespun Disney parades recorded on home videos lead to a life of passion for art and a successful career on stage.
My Son’s a Queer Arrives in New York City (at last!)
I originally won the lottery for tickets to the Broadway run of My Son’s A Queer, scheduled to begin last February. The run was unfortunately cancelled, but the production team did allude to a future run. Luckily, that future run came this June with a limited schedule at the New York City Center. As soon as tickets went on sale, I snagged my Access Club seats. I didn’t know much about the production, but I knew its reputation for being an excellent representation of Disney-loving theatre kids, and it had something to do with Rob Madge’s childhood, at-home Disney parade recreations. Let me say, it was worth the more than a year wait.
For the Disney-Loving Kids
The show is a love letter for every theatre adult who grew up as a Disney kid who never quite fit in. It’s a solo show with several catchy musical numbers, lots of inside jokes for the theatre community, a powerful message about self-acceptance, and, of course, a big celebratory ending. It originally played in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, but a few script edits were made for the New York audience (and were much appreciated).
Apt for its set, the show feels like you’re in your theatre friend’s living room, watching their childhood videos while cracking quips about your greater friend group. The production is the most literal translation of the solo shows we’ve imagined while in our own homes. No fabulous show is complete without a glitzy finale, and Madge delivers with a climactic mini-parade of home-crafted costumes.
As I was watching the show, I saw so much of my own childhood. My dad and I would play very similarly to how Madge would play with his dad. In fact, I have a photo printed on the wall in my bedroom of my dad lifting me so I could “fly” while meeting Peter Pan at the Magic Kingdom, just like how Madge’s dad would “fly” him around his childhood home. I shared Rob’s excitement for every trip to the Disney store, and his confidence in singing Disney songs at home with stage directions and lyrics that weren’t always quite right. I felt the same pain when I continued to love Disney and live performance well past the age when it was cool for a kid, and remembered how it felt to be an outsider at school for the very same reasons.
Making Your Own Magic
My Son’s A Queer (But What Can You Do?) is not your average Disney parade. Or is it? Do we not walk away from both believing in magic, feeling inspired by joy and nostalgia, and smiling from a well-produced show? Disney adults know better than anyone that magic can be found anywhere. And as Madge’s grandfather once shared with him, My Son’s A Queer teaches us:
If the world tries to tell us we’re dramatic, we should build our own [effing] stage.
I do have to ask, is it appropriate to add the cast album to my Disney playlist?
Obsessed with this key art!
A fabulous Playbill.
A look at the living room set.
Madge’s curtain call.
I still have my digital ticket from the original (canceled) run on my phone!
