Cyndi Lauper, Drag Queens, and My Dad

A Review of Kinky Boots

"It’s not just a factory. This is my family.
No one’s gonna shut us down.
Not  while Charlie Price is around."

I’m going to be completely honest: Kinky Boots was not the top of my list of must-see musicals.  In fact, it wasn’t on the list at all.  I had virtually no plans to see Kinky Boots, even after its Tony Award, and I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for my mother’s love of all things sparkly and pop-infused.  I didn’t really have a good reason to stick my nose up at the show.  I admit I was initially turned off by the weird name.  Then I was further turned off when I learned that the score was written by Cyndi Lauper. I have nothing against Lauper, but with all of the disastrous concert musicals on Broadway I was fearful that this would be another example of a pop icon’s music being turned into a horrible parody of itself.  (Rock of Ages?  Seriously?) I guess I just didn’t have enough faith in the iconic creator of pre-teen anthems such as Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.  But, as it turns out, girls no longer just want to have fun.  Girls (under which I am including all those who self-identify as women) want to have fun, own their identity, and run a successful small business.  All while looking great.  Men, understandably, want the same.  And this is what Kinky Boots is all about.

I’m obviously way behind the times when it comes to Kinky Boots.  The show has been out forever, and I’m certain a million reviews have been written celebrating what is probably the most queer-friendly Broadway musical since RENT. I 'm also very happy about this, but I’d like to discuss an aspect of this play that perhaps hasn’t been explored as in depth.  As my father gleefully proclaimed at intermission: “I can’t believe it.  They made a manufacturing musical!” And indeed they did. 

Kinky Boots is inspired by the true story of Steve Pateman’s shoe factory WJ Brooks, in Northampton, England. (In the play, the company is Price and Son and Steve Pateman is the young Charlie Price.) Pateman inherited the factory from his father in 1978, becoming the fourth generation in his family to run the company.  In 1990, WJ Brooks began to struggle and lose money as buyers opted for cheaper shoes imported from overseas.  Shoe factories in the surrounding area began to close, and Pateman was forced to let a majority of his workers go, cutting his employees from 80 to 30.   Fortunately, Patemen discovered that a nearby woman’s clothing store was looking for a company to manufacture a new type of shoe for drag queens.  Patemen took on the project, and managed to save the company and bring back the jobs, with the “kinky boots” line bringing in a full 50% of the company’s revenue.   Of course, in the musical, Charlie forms a close bond with a drag queen named Lola, learns about how everyone is really the same at heart, and takes the company’s new line of kinky boots to the Milan Fashion Week. Oh, and he falls in love with a cute blond. Fine.  But the essential manufacturing story is still there, and that’s what really tugged at my heartstrings.

The cast dancing on a conveyor belt.

My dad owns a small manufacturing business in Cincinnati, OH.  They make metal parts for metal things.  I wish I could be more specific but 1) I am ashamedly ignorant of that which has supported me my whole life and 2) what they make constantly changes.  What Dad has always taught, and what Charlie learns, is that if you want to have a successful business, you have to make what the customer is buying.  You have to be smart, innovative, creative, and you have to take risks.  If you’re a theater person reading this, you may think I’m a bit confused.  Creative?  Risk-taking?  Those are the traits required to be an artist, not a business person.  Business people play it safe and they only care about money.  I’ve heard it all before, and at the risk of outing myself as a panderer to The Man, I have to say this conception is completely and utterly false.  Creativity and the willingness to push the envelope and take risks are prerequisites to success in all fields, regardless of whether you're writing plays or making metal lids for trash cans. Artists like to think of ourselves as having a monopoly on emotional investment in our work, but I’ve witnessed the passion my father feels for running his company and it is in no way less valid, sincere, or honorable than my own passions.  Not to mention the fact that I’d never be able to pursue my passion if it wasn’t for his.

 Charlie took a huge risk when he agreed to manufacture a stiletto that could support the weight of a full grown man.  First of all, he didn’t know if it was possible, and if he failed he would lose all the money he spent trying.  Second, he ran the risk of looking ridiculous in front of the fashion industry and the shoe industry of Northampton.  Third, he felt the weight and responsibility of other people’s livelihoods depending on his making a good decision.  Faced with competition from foreign markets, a decline in demand, and a rise in their own costs, both Charlie and my father have had to make tough choices.  Both Charlie and my father have gone through times when they truly didn’t know if their little idea would work out or whether they would end up losing everything, both for themselves and for the people that work for them.

What leaders in all fields have in common is a certain feeling of isolation.  Whether you're the President of the United States, the owner of a shoe factory, or the director of your high school theater club’s fall play, the buck stops with you.  Sure, if you’re successful you get the most credit, but if you’re unsuccessful you take all the blame.  And with good enough reason: that’s your job.  You’re the guy who's responsible if things don’t work out.  Personally, I could never cope with this sort of pressure.  But if we didn’t have people who could, we wouldn’t have jobs or an economy at all.

Only a few days before the company’s pivotal trip to Milan, Charlie realizes that his assistant has miscalculated the price of travel.  They can no longer afford the flight, they are behind on hiring models and, worst of all, the boots are not being made correctly.  Although someone else had done the miscalculation and the workers are the ones messing up the boots, it's Charlie’s responsibility to solve these problems, and time is short.  Added to all this is the fact that, as 8:00 pm rolls around, the workers throw in the towel and head home.  Charlie is left completely alone, hopeless, and faced with the impending threat of moral and financial failure.  This moment is a given for anyone who owns a company.  It’s the standard existential crisis when a man or woman looks in the mirror and asks “Seriously?  What was I thinking?  Who am I to run a small business?”

Charlie sums up the feeling perfectly in Soul of a  Man when he sings “Stupid Hubris, no excuses/ I blew my fuses, I guess I'm just a ruse in my father’s shoes/ Not amusing, no confusing this streak of losing/ Totally brutal and useless too.”  At the end of the number my dad simply turned to me and said “I feel bad for the guy.”  Of course, almost immediately after, Charlie’s employees return to the factory, full of support and passion for kinky boots.  What a nice ending for a musical, I thought. 

But, as often happens, I was wrong.

After the show, Dad told me this story: 

A couple years ago, one of his major customers told him they needed an entire shipment of a product by the end of the day.  Dad’s company hadn’t even ordered the parts they needed to make the project.  They ordered the materials immediately, and they came in around 5:00 pm.  Well, not surprisingly, it was time for the guys in the shop to go home.  And they did.  So my dad, with a customer breathing down his neck, went out into the plant, turned on the laser, and starting making the parts himself. Gradually, employees started trickling back in of their own free will and working alongside him.  They got the product delivered on time.  Now, I’ll admit to being biased, but I’m willing to wager that strong yet humble leadership is what pulled the company through on this day.  So it doesn’t just happen in musicals.

Now, I’m in no way trying to undermine or ignore the importance that sexual politics and gender diversity had in this story.  And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that the best song of the show by far was Lola’s heart-wrenching “I’m Not My Father’s Son.”  The heart of Kinky Boots is a story about embracing one’s true identity, accepting others for who they are, and rocking out to 80’s-style pop music.  But it touched my family in a slightly different way.  For my dad, it validated his experience as a small business owner.  It’s a difficult, emotional, labor of love that requires the willingness to make tough decisions, be creative, risky, and persevere.  After seeing Kinky Boots, I think he finally felt like those theater people get him.  And I guess that’s why he loved the show so much.