REVIEW: DragSpeare: Drag Kings Do Shakespeare - Metro Arts

Presented by Metro Arts

By Jo Loth & Anne Pensalfini

Directed by Bridget Boyle

Musical Direction by Lucinda Shaw

Choreography by Neridah Waters

Bravado, biceps, and bulges.

If the words “drag kings do Shakespeare” don't immediately intrigue, then allow me to shake-splain just how glorious DragSpeare truly was. Presented by Metro Arts and created by the fabulous minds of Jo Loth and Anne Pensalfini, this bold, irreverent, and high-energy cabaret was unlike anything I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen a lot of Shakespeare).

The concept? Five drag kings take on some of the Bard’s most famous works, throw in iconic rock anthems, sprinkle in a heaping dose of camp, and layer it all with enough sexual tension, comedy, and poetry to leave your jaw somewhere on the floor by the conclusion. DragSpeare was part Monty Python skit, part Shakespeare seminar, part gender-bending cabaret fever dream.

The show opened with a mashup (sung live) of Black Parade and What About Me, followed immediately by Don’t Stop Me Now, naturally. It set the tone perfectly: big energy, big wigs, and bigger pants (stuffed, of course), to comedic perfection. The characters strutted and thrust their way onto the stage as The Stallion Squad began their “Royal Road Tour”, and I quickly realized I needed five sets of eyes to take in every character at once!

Jo Loth (Swingin’ Dick) kicked things off as our delightfully dirty narrator and shakes-splainer, guiding us through scenes with equal parts sincerity and stupidity. Their explanation of Hamlet in one phrase (“existential crisis”) was chef’s kiss. Think academic meets after-dark special, as Biron Bothways (played by the smooth-voiced Anne Pensalfini) launched into a haunting rendition of Mad World.

Each of the kings embodied their chosen Shakespearean role to perfection. We followed Macbeth, Hamlet, King Lear, Richard III, and Romeo all reimagined through a wonderfully queer, cocky (pun intended), and creative lens. The transitions were seamless and the cast’s energy never dipped, which is impressive given that they had to act, sing, dance, wield puppets, and play instruments!

Rocky V. Liquor (Michelle Lamarca) was one of my favourites to watch, often doing the funniest things in the background: whether leading an absurd Eye of the Tiger rendition in support of Macbeth’s descent into madness or playing Lady Macbeth (drag upon drag costuming!) with a hilariously strong Southern accent. “Out, damn spot,” will never sound the same again.

York Lit (Jules Berry) as Romeo was another comedic highlight, as they fully leaned into the strong Aussie accent and puffed-up bravado. Their performance of Never Tear Us Apart while serenading Biron as Juliet was so earnestly funny it hurt. Not to mention York’s bedazzled beard was an absolute serve. The Romeo and Juliet segment was filled with quick wit and Shakespearian absurdity: “Why do the Montagues and Capulets hate each other? Because they’re Italian, that’s why.”

Pan Tasticle (Lucinda Shaw), meanwhile, stole scenes left, right, and centre. From becoming all three witches in Macbeth using finger puppets with tiny witch hats, to slipping into Ophelia’s grief with a raspy Cockney accent while interspersing Somebody That I Used to Know, to delivering a soul-stirring Everybody Hurts, they balanced ridiculousness and emotional honesty with such skill. Their King Lear storm monologue was unexpected, powerful, poetic, and dramatically delicious!

DragSpeare was wildly clever in its ability to be both completely unhinged and musically moving. It was queer anarchy crashing into theatrical tradition, and instead of cancelling each other out, the combination elevated both. The show’s penultimate moment was perhaps its strangest and most wonderful: Richard III (Rocky) at first stammering through Shakespeare prose, only to suddenly deliver an eloquent monologue, while a BDSM Lady Anne (York) strutted around in thigh-high boots and a corset stuffed with tissues, singing Creep. I genuinely didn’t know whether to laugh, gasp, or scream “slay!”. So I did all three.

It all came together in a gloriously chaotic finale, with a dash of A Midsummer Night’s Dream for good measure, before closing with Bowie’s Heroes. DragSpeare felt fresh and spontaneous, yet so polished that none of the language was fumbled.

This was not the QCS Shakespeare that you studied in school... It was a celebration of performance, of queerness, of the ridiculous and the raw. A show full of laughter, clowning, campy brilliance, and fierce vulnerability. DragSpeare had it all and then some.

Photography by Joel Devereux, Morgan Roberts, Deb Mayes and Frank Hakl