Skye Scraper is a dynamic, athletic, and dramatic performer and storyteller, and The Life and Times of a Drag Queen Accountant proved to be an effective vehicle for showcasing a wide range of skills.
The performance offered a fascinating mix of experiences, from the surprising choice of makeup (that unexpected little moustache—not featured in the poster image!) to the varied and successful audience interaction.
The show’s focus on the dual roles of John and Skye—two identities not always easily reconciled within a sometimes frantic double life—added psychological depth to the spectacular high kicks that consistently drew gasps and applause.
To some extent, the show also deconstructed its own elements. Especially in the opening, calls for suitable music and lighting led to playful exchanges with the technical staff, while near the end, Skye wiped away sweat using padding from the bustier, jokingly self-labeling as a sweater. If that was noticeable on a cool evening at DSATM, it’s easy to believe the anecdote about drag queens melting in a previous Fringe venue without air conditioning during a heatwave.
Fart jokes can be hit or miss, but here, they worked—associating dramatic sound effects with equally large and spectacular dance moves tied neatly into the show’s narrative. One particularly funny sequence followed the transition from an office event (post-meal—guess what kind?) to performing in a show already packed with challenges.
The songs were well chosen to fit the narrative—starting with the obvious 9 to 5—and included nods to past performances. At one point, Skye stated that every single word in a particular lip-sync number was genuinely heartfelt.
A choreographic formula cleverly linked to accounting principles, along with references to professional jargon, met with knowing applause from the crowd. A quick survey of audience backgrounds led to playful direct engagement, and even an audience member brought on stage had their unusual profession seamlessly woven into the act.
Well worth watching and listening—this seven-foot glamazon is not (just) a pretty painted face!