Welcome to Lady T’s – (allegedly) the longest-running drag club in Aotearoa. A world teeming with fabulous, wild, and outrageous creatures… but the walls are crumbling, the kitty’s empty, and this royal family is fighting to keep the doors open and their chosen whānau together.
For one month only, the Q Theatre Loft has been transformed into something extraordinary: a drag club bursting with glitter, sequins, and rebellion, but also layered with history, politics, and humanity. D.R.A.G (Dressed Resembling A God), directed by longtime Silo collaborator Daniel Williams in his theatre directing debut, is not just another drag show. It is a theatrical experience in two distinct halves; one that first peels back the curtain to reveal the people behind the flamboyant personas, and then unleashes the full force of drag performance in all its dazzling glory. The tonal contrast is striking, sometimes jarring, but ultimately rewarding. By the end of the night, the audience is left exhilarated, having lived through both the struggles and the triumphs of Aotearoa’s drag community.
The first half of D.R.A.G plays out like a traditional drama, set backstage at Lady T’s; the longest-running drag club in Aotearoa. Here we meet three central figures: Adina Delights (Adam Burrell), the seasoned diva and club owner; Hugo Grrrl (George Fowler), the sharp-tongued drag king and Adina’s right-hand; and Slay West (Levi Waitere), a proud mana wāhine Māori performer. Together, they embody different generations and perspectives within drag, and their interactions form the backbone of the narrative.
This act is not about lip-syncs or dance numbers. Instead, it is about conversations, tensions, and the lived realities of those who inhabit drag culture. There is bitching, backhanded comments, and plenty of camp theatrics, but beneath the drama lies a genuine love language of camaraderie. Adina represents the older guard, grappling with the evolution of drag and sometimes clashing with the younger wave of performers; women and trans men who are redefining what drag can be. Hugo voices frustration at the lack of inclusivity in mainstream platforms like RuPaul’s Drag Race, particularly the exclusion of drag kings. Slay raises concerns about the anti-trans sentiments that have circulated in drag’s global discourse. These debates are not abstract; they are deeply personal, and they resonate with the broader struggles of queer communities worldwide.
The first act also introduces a clever theatrical device: a guest performer auditioning for a spot in Lady T’s lineup. This role changes nightly, meaning each audience experiences something unique. It’s a reminder of the diversity and expansiveness of Aotearoa’s queer community, and it keeps the show fresh with every performance.
For some audience members, this opening act may feel slow or unexpected. The narrative-heavy exposition demands patience, and there is a moment of uncertainty as viewers wonder when the “show” truly begins. But this deliberate pacing serves a purpose. It humanizes the performers, reminding us that behind the glitter are people with jobs, ambitions, responsibilities, and vulnerabilities. They are not untouchable icons but individuals navigating a world that still threatens their safety and dignity. In a time when governments overseas attempt to roll back LGBTQ rights, by banning trans people from military service, restricting healthcare, or limiting marriage equality, this act insists that we see the real faces and struggles behind the art form. It is a sobering, necessary reminder.
After the interval, the production pivots dramatically. The cluttered backstage dissolves, and the Loft is reborn as a full-fledged drag cabaret. Set designer Michael McCabe and lighting/sound designer Sean Lynch deserve immense credit for this transformation. Spotlights sweep across the room, soundscapes pulse with energy, and the cabaret-style table seating pulls the audience directly into the action. The performers weave through the crowd, draping feather boas over unsuspecting patrons, climbing onto chairs, and teasing with razor-sharp wit. Suddenly, the audience is no longer passive observers; they are participants in the spectacle.
This second half is pure drag: bold, brash, and unapologetically entertaining. Hugo Grrrl, Adina Delights, and Slay West deliver a mix of group numbers and solo acts, spanning genres from Cher’s anthems to Donna Summer’s disco glamour, from showgirl sparkle to cowboy chic. There are medleys, costume changes, and moments of improvisation that keep the energy electric. The performers shock, awe, and delight, embodying the charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent that define drag at its best.
The tonal shift from the first act to the second is dramatic; almost a 180-degree turn. At first, the audience hesitates, unsure whether to simply watch or to cheer and participate. But once the performers make it clear that this is a drag show in full flight, the room erupts. Laughter, applause, and shouts of encouragement fill the Loft. The earlier slow burn pays off, giving the performances greater emotional weight. Having seen the struggles and debates backstage, the audience now experiences the catharsis of drag as celebration, resistance, and joy.
What makes D.R.A.G more than just entertainment is its exploration of drag as both art and activism. The show celebrates drag’s legacy in Aotearoa, honouring the queens, kings, and trans performers who paved the way. It acknowledges generational differences, the tensions between tradition and innovation, and the ongoing fight for inclusivity. The recurring theme of “passing the baton” between generations underscores the importance of continuity and progress. Drag is not static; it evolves, and this production embraces that evolution while paying tribute to its roots.
The show also situates drag within broader social and political contexts. Conversations about RuPaul’s Drag Race highlight the complexities of mainstream visibility; greater acceptance on one hand, continued exclusion and erasure on the other. References to local and global challenges remind us that drag is not just about sequins and lip-syncs; it is about survival, resistance, and community. In this sense, D.R.A.G is both a spectacle and a statement.
By the end of the night, any doubts about the slow start are forgotten. The audience has been taken on a journey; from the backstage realities of drag performers to the full-throttle celebration of their artistry. The tonal contrast is the show’s greatest challenge, but also its greatest strength. It forces us to see drag not just as entertainment but as lived experience, layered with history, politics, and humanity. And then, once that foundation is laid, it invites us to revel in the glittering spectacle.
For newcomers to drag, D.R.A.G is a perfect introduction; though not one that holds back. The performances are bold, sometimes shocking, and unapologetically queer. For seasoned fans, it offers something deeper: a reminder of the legacy, struggles, and triumphs that underpin the art form. Either way, it is a night to remember.
If anything, the production could have been longer, allowing more time for the exhilarating second half. But perhaps that is the point: drag leaves you wanting more. And with a rotating lineup of guest performers, including names like Anita Wigl’it, Buckwheat, Chris Parker, and Tom Sainsbury, no two nights are the same. Each performance is unique, each audience experience singular.
Ultimately, D.R.A.G succeeds in its dual mission: to honour the past and to celebrate the present. It is a show of two halves, contrasting yet complementary, and together they create a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. By the final curtain, the Q Theatre Loft is not just a venue; it is a sanctuary, a stage, and a riotous celebration of drag in Aotearoa.
Performance of D.R.A.G (Dressed Resembling A God) will run from 13 Nov – 6 Dec at Auckland's Q Theatre Loft.
Duration: 90 mins approx including interval
R16. This show will definitely be on Santa’s naughty list this year…







