Arts & Entertainment
Profane and profound
Studio’s ‘Hat’ a smart and beguiling character study

Drew Cortese, left, and Gabriela Fernandez-Coffey in Studio’s ‘The Motherfucker With the Hat.’ (Photo by Teddy Wolff; courtesy Studio)
‘The Motherfucker With the Hat’
Through March 10
Studio Theatre
1501 14th St. NW
$48-$72
202-332-3300
studiotheatre.org
“The Motherfucker with the Hat’s” catchy title is mild when compared to its dialogue. Yes, the characters in Stephen Adly Guirgis’ latest play like their language raw (don’t even try to count the f-bombs — you’d run out of fingers and toes within minutes) and very often hilarious. But there’s nothing stilted about what’s being said onstage. Guirgis faithfully channels the words of their world, allowing these hardcore New Yorkers to tell their stories in their own way and it couldn’t be more authentic.
Now playing at Studio Theatre, “Hat” kicks off with Veronica (Rosal Colón), a 30-ish Nuyorican spitfire talking on the phone with her mom while cleaning her grungy studio apartment and doing the occasional line of cocaine. Veronica advises her mother to drop her new no good man who has a head like fish, saying, “Take a moment. Take a breath. Take a real good look and just ax yourself in all honesty, ‘Do I wanna fuck him or fry him up with a little adobo and paprika?’” Instantly, we know this girl — not terribly eloquent, but makes her point, and her heart is in the right place.
Enter Veronica’s longtime boyfriend Jackie (the excellent Drew Cortese) bearing good news. A newly sober parolee who’s recently finished a two year stint upstate for dealing drugs, Jackie has just landed a job with UPS. But what was supposed to be a celebratory evening of Carvel ice cream cake, lovemaking and movies for the passionate couple goes awry when he spies an unfamiliar hat in the apartment — a dark fedora, plain except for a small fiery red feather on the side. He suspects infidelity. A huge fight ensues, and Jackie, unsure whether to seek wisdom at an A.A. meeting or revenge, storms out.
His support system — such as it is — consists of his best friend and AA sponsor Ralph (Quentin Maré), a charmingly slimy guru-wannabe who runs a successful health drink startup with his also sober but embittered wife Victoria (Gabriela Fernandez-Coffey). And while Ralph talks a lot of self-improvement, in his defense, he never claims to have anything to offer anyone other than sobriety. And then there’s Jackie’s seemingly gay cousin Julio (smartly underplayed Liche Ariza), a fastidious foodie/bodybuilder who’s married to a woman and harbors a secret passion for violence. Typically Jackie goes to him only when he needs something.
A wordy two hours without an intermission, “Hat” could potentially be tedious, but it’s not. Director Serge Seiden, who is gay, keeps things moving at a brisk clip. He also maintains an enviable balance of laughs and pathos. Debra Booth’s set is nicely subtle and serviceable — it works well, but never gets in the way. And the terrific five-person ensemble cast is especially strong. Each of the actors brilliantly embodies the play’s message: people aren’t always what they seem.
Without warning, Guirgis’ agile writing turns sharply from insults and slams to moments of stunning poignancy. When a drunken Jackie shows up at Veronica’s apartment eager to punish her for hurting him, she responds with her own hurt, reminding him of their shared dreams of children, a home in Yonkers, a future — all crushed by bad timing, poor decisions and drugs. Or when cousin Julio’s bouncy walk down memory lane morphs into an explanation of why he remains so very loyal to Jackie, citing a heartfelt memory from his early outcast adolescence when Jackie had his back. Heartbreaking moments.
A native of York City’s Upper West Side, the playwright is known for using the neighborhood’s urban mix in his work; and with “Hat,” an interesting cross section of these foul-mouthed, angry but hopeful, hurting and seriously funny folks are present and accounted for. They’re damaged people, in pain, masking hurt with bravado and humor, looking for love and trying to find their way.
“Hat” is a resonant play and Studio’s deeply affecting, always engaging production is alternately stinging and poignant.
Drag artists perform for crowds in towns across Virginia. The photographer follows Gerryatrick, Shenandoah, Climaxx, Emerald Envy among others over eight months as they perform at venues in the Virginia towns of Staunton, Harrisonburg and Fredericksburg.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)



















Books
New book explores homosexuality in ancient cultures
‘Queer Thing About Sin’ explains impact of religious credo in Greece, Rome
‘The Queer Thing About Sin’
By Harry Tanner
c.2025, Bloomsbury
$28/259 pages
Nobody likes you very much.
That’s how it seems sometimes, doesn’t it? Nobody wants to see you around, they don’t want to hear your voice, they can’t stand the thought of your existence and they’d really rather you just go away. It’s infuriating, and in the new book “The Queer Thing About Sin” by Harry Tanner, you’ll see how we got to this point.
When he was a teenager, Harry Tanner says that he thought he “was going to hell.”
For years, he’d been attracted to men and he prayed that it would stop. He asked for help from a lay minister who offered Tanner websites meant to repress his urges, but they weren’t the panacea Tanner hoped for. It wasn’t until he went to college that he found the answers he needed and “stopped fearing God’s retribution.”
Being gay wasn’t a sin. Not ever, but he “still wanted to know why Western culture believed it was for so long.”
Historically, many believe that older men were sexual “mentors” for teenage boys, but Tanner says that in ancient Greece and Rome, same-sex relationships were common between male partners of equal age and between differently-aged pairs, alike. Clarity comes by understanding relationships between husbands and wives then, and careful translation of the word “boy,” to show that age wasn’t a factor, but superiority and inferiority were.
In ancient Athens, queer love was considered to be “noble” but after the Persians sacked Athens, sex between men instead became an acceptable act of aggression aimed at conquered enemies. Raping a male prisoner was encouraged but, “Gay men became symbols of a depraved lack of self-control and abstinence.”
Later Greeks believed that men could turn into women “if they weren’t sufficiently virile.” Biblical interpretations point to more conflict; Leviticus specifically bans queer sex but “the Sumerians actively encouraged it.” The Egyptians hated it, but “there are sporadic clues that same-sex partners lived together in ancient Egypt.”
Says Tanner, “all is not what it seems.”
So you say you’re not really into ancient history. If it’s not your thing, then “The Queer Thing About Sin” won’t be, either.
Just know that if you skip this book, you’re missing out on the kind of excitement you get from reading mythology, but what’s here is true, and a much wider view than mere folklore. Author Harry Tanner invites readers to go deep inside philosophy, religion, and ancient culture, but the information he brings is not dry. No, there are major battles brought to life here, vanquished enemies and death – but also love, acceptance, even encouragement that the citizens of yore in many societies embraced and enjoyed. Tanner explains carefully how religious credo tied in with homosexuality (or didn’t) and he brings readers up to speed through recent times.
While this is not a breezy vacation read or a curl-up-with-a-blanket kind of book, “The Queer Thing About Sin” is absolutely worth spending time with. If you’re a thinking person and can give yourself a chance to ponder, you’ll like it very much.
Theater
‘Octet’ explores the depths of digital addiction
Habits not easily shaken in Studio Theatre chamber musical
‘Octet’
Through Feb. 26
Studio Theatre
1501 14th Street, N.W.
Tickets start at $55
Studiotheatre.org
David Malloy’s “Octet” delves deep into the depths of digital addiction.
Featuring a person ensemble, this extraordinary a capella chamber musical explores the lives of recovering internet addicts whose lives have been devastated by digital dependency; sharing what’s happened and how things have changed.
Dressed in casual street clothes, the “Friends of Saul” trickle into a church all-purpose room, check their cell phones in a basket, put away the bingo tables, and arrange folding chairs into a circle. Some may stop by a side table offering cookies, tea, and coffee before taking a seat.
The show opens with “The Forest,” a haunting hymn harking back to the good old days of an analog existence before glowing screens, incessant pings and texts.
“The forest was beautiful/ My head was clean and clear/Alone without fear/ The forest was safe/ I danced like a beautiful fool / One time some time.”
Mimicking an actual step meeting, there’s a preamble. And then the honest sharing begins, complete with accounts of sober time and slips.
Eager to share, Jessica (Chelsea Williams) painfully recalls being cancelled after the video of her public meltdown went viral. Henry (Angelo Harrington II) is a gay gamer with a Candy Crush problem. Toby (Adrian Joyce) a nihilist who needs to stay off the internet sings “So anyway/ I’m doing good/ Mostly/ Limiting my time/ Mostly.”
The group’s unseen founder Saul is absent, per usual.
In his stead Paula, a welcoming woman played with quiet compassion by Tracy Lynn Olivera, leads. She and her husband no longer connect. They bring screens to bed. In a love-lost ballad, she explains: “We don’t sleep well/ My husband I/ Our circadian rhythms corrupted/ By the sallow blue glow of a screen/ Sucking souls and melatonin/ All of my dreams have been stolen.”
After too much time spent arguing with strangers on the internet, Marvin, a brainy young father played by David Toshiro Crane, encounters the voice of a God.
Ed (Jimmy Kieffer) deals with a porn addiction. Karly (Ana Marcu) avoids dating apps, a compulsion compared to her mother’s addiction to slot machines.
Malloy, who not only wrote the music but also the smart lyrics, book, and inventive vocal arrangements, brilliantly joins isolation with live harmony. It’s really something.
And helmed by David Muse, “Octet” is a precisely, quietly, yet powerfully staged production, featuring a topnotch cast who (when not taking their moment in the spotlight) use their voices to make sounds and act as a sort of Greek chorus. Mostly on stage throughout all of the 100-minute one act, they demonstrate impressive stamina and concentration.
An immersive production, “Octet” invites audience members to feel a part of the meeting. Studio’s Shargai Theatre is configured, for the first, in the round. And like the characters, patrons must also unplug. Everyone is required to have their phones locked in a small pouch (that only ushers are able to open and close), so be prepared for a wee bit of separation anxiety.
At the end of the meeting, the group surrenders somnambulantly. They know they are powerless against internet addiction. But group newbie Velma (Amelia Aguilar) isn’t entirely convinced. She remembers the good tech times.
In a bittersweet moment, she shares of an online friendship with “a girl in Sainte Marie / Just like me.”
Habits aren’t easily shaken.
-
District of Columbia4 days agoD.C. Council gives first approval to amended PrEP insurance bill
-
2026 Midterm Elections4 days agoLGBTQ Victory Fund looks beyond Washington for change in 2026
-
National4 days agoHuman Rights Watch sharply criticizes US in annual report
-
Italy5 days ago44 openly LGBTQ athletes to compete in Milan Cortina Winter Olympics
