In the 1950’s Christine Jorgenson became famous – but not just for being a tall, blonde bombshell. True, like many other female celebrities the masses were captivated with thoughts of what lay beneath her glamorous evening gowns, but Jorgenson was not your average girl. In fact, for most of her life she was not your average boy. What prompted Jorgenson’s notoriety was that she was the first person to publicly undergo transgender surgery. Once an awkward, introverted GI soldier, Jorgenson became a hugely popular cabaret star. Now, The Theater Offensive resurrects her in their play, Christine Jorgenson Reveals, to honor the woman once banned in Boston for being too risqué.

Conceived by actor Bradford Louryk, the play is a lip-synched recreation of Jorgenson’s 1958 interview with journalist, Nipsey Russell. Louryk had found the recording while bin digging in an East Village record shop. What he discovered was an enlightening expose on a woman whose progressiveness shocked the world in the 1950’s and still rivals any modern day humanist. Through their dialogue, Jorgenson managed to unveil the myths surrounding her persona, as well as call to question theories on identity and gender in general. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Louryk’s performance is not the illumination of Jorgenson, but the fact that by the end, it seems that modern society is the alien entity, not Jorgenson. While Jorgenson sits on her chair, self-composed and confident; it is Russell (Rob Grace) who seems to fluctuate between arrogant machismo, morbid curiosity, and uncomfortable embarrassment.

The play is not written or spoken by the actors. Louryk and Grace lip-synch to the recording of the interview. That is why it is so fascinating to be able to look on it from our cultural viewpoint. We are able to notice the subtle bigotries that were so embedded in society than.

For example, at one point Russell states, “Are you a woman?” In turn Jorgenson replies, “We don’t take into account the true scientific value that each person is actually both.” As a viewer, we must take into account the work of Alfred Kinsey, a doctor who revolutionized theories on sex and gender around that time, a man Jorgenson seems to quote to a tee. Thus, the play becomes an exchange between a person who seems to have an acute self-awareness along side another person whose sense of self seems shaken by the experience. Of note, the character of Nipsey Russell does not make an appearance on stage. Instead he is shown on a television screen. This may beckon to the notion that times have changed- in the Fifties it was Jorgenson who seemed ill placed in contemporary society. Now the roles are different and Russell is filtered to the viewer through an archaic black and white TV.

The play has very little action so at times it may be a bit tedious for the MTV Generation – who without interruptions may want to take a quick nap. It is what it is – an interview. The virtue lies in Louryk’s stunning performance. He has every nuance of Jorgenson down, from her delicate, lady-like movements to the brief moments when she let’s her guard down and shows the faint traces of her past as a man. It takes Louryk over an hour to complete his transformation into the gorgeous Jorgenson before every performance. This attention to detail is also found in the background noise in which sounds on the interview recording are amped up. When Jorgenson did as little as move, causing the chair to creak, Louryk does the same. At one point, Jorgenson had brushed her hand across her taffeta dress making a “zip” noise. On cue, Louryk moved his hand across the material of his dress. It was moments like these in the play in which Louryk’s virtuosity as an actor shows through with brilliant clarity.

To be able to see this – one time banned in Boston celebrity – come to life through Bradford Louryk is a rare treat. Though it is unfortunate that Bean town residents did not appreciate Jorgenson in her time at least we can redeem ourselves and see Christine Jorgenson Reveals, for there is still much she can teach us.