Ms. Blakk for President – 06 November 2026
From the moment you enter Vineyard Theatre to see Ms. Blakk for President, you are in the production’s capable hands. The walls are adorned with timelines and information, the performers are roaming among you performing their preshow tracks– even the railings on the staircase are festively decked out in the show’s signature hot pink. Inside the theater itself, there are amusing drag performances to take in, alongside David Zinn’s absolutely fabulous set. By the time the lights go down, the audience is already steeped in the celebratory elements of the show and one of a kind party that they are about to encounter. After getting everyone hyped up, it’s time for the other kind of party – political. The story of Ms. Blakk for President follows Terence Alan Smith’s (Ato Blankson-Wood) transformation from small Chicago drag queen to presidential candidate in the form of drag persona Joan Jett Blakk. Accompanied by community organization and the full force of Queer Nation, Joan embarks on a quest – not to win, but to lose spectacularly enough to be noticed and put queer issues on the country’s agenda. He is accompanied by his friend Mark (Gideon Glick), a fierce political organizer whose partner has AIDS, and others from Queer Nation. The ensemble rotates roles, crossing gender with incredible ease, showing the audience two whole worlds, one within the queer community and one beyond.
Much of the show shines with exuberant brightness as it revels in the excitement of sharing one’s true self. There are also scenes of fear that acknowledge police brutality and an understanding that being loud and proud can have consequences. There is a particular moment that leans into this. Actor Nic Ashe plays a character who attends a Queer Nation rally and is utterly disenchanted with what he finds. He expresses disgust, stating that the spectacle others are making directly undermines gay people who seek societal legitimacy and clout through normalcy. It’s a brief moment, maybe five minutes out of the entire show. But it’s a powerful one precisely because they chose to let the criticism stand and not erase the validity of that narrative. More than anything, this moment is what made Ms. Blakk for President a show for and by the people. It makes space for more than one narrative truth, and legitimizes the many ways that people fight for justice and how they help and harm each other. This production humanizes those who harnessed the power of visible joy. The show does this through both original moments and culturally iconic revelries, most brilliantly facilitated by the momentously talented Sawyer Smith, balanced out by the masculine energy of Adina Verson. The show does firmly shove aside the lesbian experience, though all of the characters Verson played brought dynamic energy into the space reminding audiences that queer, AFAB women also show up to fight for queer rights.
The place itself is its own energizing adventure. Black and hot pink in coloration, the X shaped runway was emblazoned with queer activism slogans. The walls of the theater were plastered with bold queer takes on political flyers, pamphlets, and posters, and the audience was immediately struck with the duality of Ms. Blakk for President – the fun of doing the work and the vital importance of doing the work. Lighting (Bradley King) held space for both glamour and camp, as did projection’s (Rasean Davonté Johnson) use of period televisions surrounding the space. Costumes (Ari Fulton) were powerful and covered an impressive amount of ground. Sound is tough in a space configured like this, but Lindsay Jones is up to the challenge.
The show is more fun to attend if you’re queer, though allies will likely still enjoy the evening. It’s not necessarily a good show for those with lots of questions about the queer community; I would classify this more as an in-group safe space. That said, for the engaged audience member, it’s absolutely dazzling.
I attended this performance on a press pass from The Press Room.
