The blazing career of self-proclaimed “male actress” Charles Pierce was launched in the clubs of San Francisco around the time the struggle for gay rights was kicked into full gear with the Stonewall riots on the opposite coast. With his dead-on satirical send-ups of screen immortals such as Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Tallulah Bankhead, Pierce quickly earned a devoted fan following and it was common to see celebrities of the day (ranging from Lucille Ball to Anthony Hopkins) in his audience. One celebrity admirer, Bea Arthur, became a very close friend and paid tribute to him in her one-woman show. Before his death in 1999, Pierce had also racked up an impressive acting resume with guest spots on popular TV series Laverne & Shirley and Designing Women and in Harvey Fierstein’s seminal queer film Torch Song Trilogy. The late performer is the subject of a fantastic new book, Write That Down! The Comedy of Male Actress Charles Pierce, written by Kirk Frederick. Queerty chatted with the author about how Pierce rose to prominence, how the AIDS epidemic had an impact on his career and his continued influence on drag performers everywhere.
Queerty: When you first met Charles Pierce, did you know who he was?
Kirk Frederick: Yes. I had just moved to San Francisco, and some of my friends told me about this great performer at The Gilded Cage. It was a small, exclusive space. Sold out. I couldn’t get in. I knew he was a comedian who did drag, but I didn’t see that show. Soon after that, I was cast in a new gay play Geese in June of 1969, the summer of Stonewall. We knew what was happening in New York, and we thought doing a positive gay play would be timely. It was a sweet show; its heart was in the right place. Hair was playing across the street, and The Boys in the Band was going to open in North Beach in San Francisco soon enough.
How did you get to know him?
How about we take this to the next level?
Our newsletter is like a refreshing cocktail (or mocktail) of LGBTQ+ entertainment and pop culture, served up with a side of eye-candy.
Our producers were fans of Charles Pierce, and they took some of the cast members of Geese to see his show on one of our dark nights. After the show, which was great, we went backstage. Charles was out of drag already. He was attractive and charming. The next night, our producers announced that Charles was coming into the play as my boyfriend’s mother. So I worked with Charles in that show for a year — I saw what a wonderful actor he was. And my then-partner Peter (in the play and in my life) and I became part of Charles’s show on Mondays, doing song and dance, that kind of thing.
How did Charles take his success in San Francisco and parlay it into a larger career?
He played SF’s The Gilded Cage for six years. He got a chance to take the show to Los Angeles. The legendary Sunset Strip club Ciro’s (now the Comedy Store), was getting ready to close, and they offered Charles the opportunity to be their final act. The venue was great for him. A four-week engagement turned into three months. Lots of celebrities came to see us. I tell some of those stories in the book.
Was most of the act scripted?
The beginning, some of the middle, and the end were scripted, but he improvised a lot in between, based on audience, current events, and that kind of thing. He had to make quick costume and prop changes, so we all teamed together to make it work. Very quickly, we decided to video tape the shows so that we wouldn’t miss his off-the-cuff lines. That’s where my book’s title comes from: Charles would get a great laugh and then stage-whisper to us in the wings, “Write that down!”
Did you work with him continuously during these years?
No, I went back to San Francisco, and Charles stayed in Los Angeles. I got involved in the now legendary show Beach Blanket Babylon. That took a lot of my time, so he got a new dresser. For about three years, we did not see much of each other. But then I started working with him again, more as a producer, and that collaboration lasted the rest of his career. And I still stage managed many of his San Francisco shows.
What are some of your favorite memories of Charles performing?
Bette Davis was his best role. He was a comic impressionist; his “Bette” was not an homage, which of course would have been her preference. But he made Bette his own. At Ciro’s we realized that his Bette needed a bigger entrance, so we decided to set it up by showing the famous staircase scene from All About Eve, with the “Fasten your seatbelts” line. We made the screen of Ace bandages, so we could show the short clip and then Charles would step through the screen, in the same pose and costume. His first line, after the raucous applause, would be “Thaaan-kew!” It brought the house down every night. But he also needed a closer, so again we turned to All About Eve and the car speech—“Funny thing, a woman’s career.” Charles did it as a serious moment in the show: you could hear a pin drop. His range was astonishing.
Would you say that his career really took off in the ’80s?
Absolutely. He did a lot of talk shows — Dick Cavett and that kind of thing — and he played venues as large and prestigious as the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in downtown Los Angeles, where he improvised the line “Who knew that Dorothy Pavilion’s middle name was Chandler?” In 1984, the San Francisco Fairmont Hotel hired him for five summers in a row: he filled the room. This was a high-paying gig, and it gave him great mainstream press exposure in San Francisco, a decade after his earlier local fame. Maybe the most important role was being cast as the drag performer and emcee “Bertha Venation” in Harvey Fierstein’s film version of Torch Song Trilogy in 1988. Harvey allowed Charles to use some of his own material, and it was clearly a chance for Harvey to honor Charles as a drag pioneer. He also had “off stage” moments in the film, which again showcased his acting range.
Did the AIDS crisis impact Charles’s career?
He did many, many AIDS benefits in the ‘80s and early ‘90s. Lots of performers would come and do a song or something, but Charles could do one of his characters and bring down the house with laughter. He never made jokes about AIDS; he wanted to take the audience out of that history, even for just a few minutes. That was important to him.
How did his career wind down?
With a kind of perfect symmetry, actually. The Pasadena Playhouse, where he’d gone to acting school in the late 1940s, asked him to do an engagement at their smaller Balcony Theater. This was his show called The Legendary Ladies of the Silver Screen: All Talking, All Singing, All Dancing, All Dead. When we closed in October of 1990, he called me to say that he wanted to put away the costumes and take some time off. Turns out, he enjoyed retirement. He had become friends with Bea Arthur, and the two of them put together a show. The last gig I ever did with him was in 1993, with the Los Angeles Gay Men’s Chorus. But that full circle at the Pasadena Playhouse was really his final act.
What is the legacy of Charles Pierce?
He had a forty-plus year career. He pioneered the art of female impersonation. Careers like RuPaul’s, Charles Busch’s and Lypsinka’s owe a lot to Charles. He had a great run. Since I have my own archive of his material, I thought I could create a book that would give Charles credit for what he had achieved. As early as 1973, I wrote a piece for the gay San Francisco magazine Vector, in which I talked about Charles as a cross-over artist. Already, that early in the movement, he was becoming a kind of voice for the gay community. I included that essay in the appendix of the book because it points to his legacy. That was twenty years before his final performance, and, for me, his longevity, the fact that he helped memorialize and even preserve some of the Hollywood legends, and that he made people laugh for so long is a legacy to be proud of. For years, I’d hear late-night comics using jokes that Charles made famous. So in Write That Down! I have been able to share his act with his fans, old and new. On YouTube, there are hours of Charles Pierce performances, and of course on stage is the best way to enjoy Charles’s talent. With the book, I’ve done the best I can to keep his legacy alive.
Watch Charles transform into Joan Crawford in full-blown Mommie Dearest mode below.
Tobi
For my money, no-one has ever beaten the late, great Craig Russell.
Tobi
https://youtu.be/4E9qNgjFCIQ
crowebobby
“He pioneered the art of female impersonation.” Sorry, but as talented as he was, he didn’t “pioneer” the art: at best he was perhaps one of the pioneers of this particular niche along with T.C. Jones, Craig Russell, Lynn Carter, and several others. If you count the great stars like Julian Eltinge and many others from the 1800’s he was a long way from being a pioneer. I hope this doesn’t sound angry; it’s not meant to be.
Tobi
@crowebobby: 100% agree. Danny La Rue was a huge international star, on the west end stage, on television and in films from the 1950’s right up until his death in 2009.
.
judysdad
Excuse me, but isn’t it time to leave this cap in the dung heap of queer history? It’s embarrassing to think that gay men during those years were really interested in seeing this kind of thing. Sad, but true.
rdarcher
Audio of Charles Pierce, discussion of his film “Rabbit Test” starts at 23:55 at http://www.armedplanet.com/FruitPunch-1985-1023-Dan%20White%20Suicide.mp3
Recording made off the air from KPFA 94.1FM Berkley at 10PM October 23, 1985, just after Dan White’s suicide. The entire episode is probably of some historical interest.
MacAdvisor
Test
MacAdvisor
I keep trying to post a comment, but it doesn’t show up. So I am testing what is wrong, sorry guys.
MacAdvisor
So, my comment was 562 words, but cutting it to below 500 didn’t let it post.
MacAdvisor
Cut it to below 450 words and that still didn’t do it. Going to try less than 400 words next.
MacAdvisor
Tried the 398 words, but that didn’t seem to work either. There isn’t anything in the Queerty Comment Police about word length, so I don’t think that is it. Clearly I can post things Why won’t my story about Pierce post?
MacAdvisor
One hopes some at Queerty will read these posts and looked it (and, even, perhaps, correct) the problem. Tried again this morning. I type in the post, click “Post Comment,” page refreshes, comment amount doesn’t change, and the post doesn’t appear.
MacAdvisor
Going to try breaking comment into parts.
In 1981, the great love of my life, Scott, and I moved to San Francisco to an apartment on 18th Street between Castro and Hartford, next door the infamous Jaguar Bookstore (the bookstore has since lost much of its infamousness and moved across the street). We were truly at the hearth of the gay world in 1981. Moving from Cupertino to San Francisco had taken nearly everything we had and we worked tirelessly to get the place ready for a grand housewarming party. Though we were broke, we heard Mr. Pierce was performing at the Compass Rose at the famed St. Francis Hotel. Scott bought us tickets and we went the night before our housewarming. We arrived very early, as Scott was so excited to see Mr. Pierce, and we were seated in the center table of the first row. We could practically reach out and touch Mr. Pierce’s shoes when he was on stage.
MacAdvisor
Scott was mesmerized by Mr. Piece. When Mr. Piece appeared as Bette Davis (as mentioned, his signature role) and did the set up for the famous line from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, Scott was so entranced, he said out loud and in a voice a little too loud from alcohol, “But you are, Blanche, but you are.” He robbed Mr. Pierce of the climax of the bit. The room went absolutely quiet. Pierce was caught with his mouth ready to form the words. He froze for a second, then walked to the very edge of the stage, the spot light following him, right up to Scott. He command him to rise. Scott stood up and Mr. Pierce looked him up and down. Then Mr. Pierce said, “You may be cute, but its my show, I’m on stage, and *I* say the lines.” Scott was struck absolutely dumb. I tried to pretend I was sitting at the next table. The room exploded in laughter and the show went on.
MacAdvisor
Finding the problem.
Scott invited Mr. Pierce to our house warming party. Much to my surprise, Mr. Pierce showed up the next night and was such a great guest.
The party was a bit of a legend in the Castro. In addition to Mr. Pierce, the Gay Men’s Chorus was there, along with Sylvester and several cast members from Finocchio’s. Our supplies ran out early in the night, but people kept running to the local stores, buying food and drink, and bringing back to keep the festivities going. All I can say is thank G-d for the End Up, so people had a reason to leave that Sunday morning.
MacAdvisor
By the end of 1981, Scott would be dead, his short, but fabulous life ended tragically by a fire. Still, those two days early in my time in The City colored what I think of San Francisco to this day. It is a magical place where you may be dancing with a girl who needs a shave, where both riffraff and the royalty are about, and eccentrics always punctuate the scene. It’s rather gaudy, but it’s also rather grand.
Thank you, Mr. Pierce, wherever you are. You are what made it grand.
MacAdvisor
So, just before Scott invites Mr. Pierce to our housewarming party, we stayed after the show and Scott apologized to Mr. Pierce, who was very gracious about the whole thing.
He BGB
Since drag is getting mainstream more or less drag queens never “do” famous women anymore. Or maybe because today’s stars don’t stand out? Whatever the case, it’s now about the makeup and colored contact lenses. Still an art but different.
OzJosh
@He BGB: As the article says, Charles Pierce (like Craig Russell) was an actor, and a good one. He created finely tuned comic personas based on Bette, Joan, et al. He was interested in character and comedy and performance – which is to say he had almost nothing in common with the modern drag performers, who are mostly just giant egos wedged into paper-thin and stereotypical drag personas. One is artistry; the other is public masturbation.
OzJosh
@Tobi: Well, not quite. La Rue’s time was the 50s to the 70s, after which his act started to look decidedly old hat, and he never found a way – or saw the need – to update it. I saw him perform towards the end and it was a sad, sad affair. The drag persona was a museum piece, with tired, barely amusing jokes. Performers like Pierce also acknowledged and played on their sexuality, and played directly to their gay audience. La Rue, until just before the end, mostly pretended to be straight and aimed his act entirely at a straight audience.
Tobi
@OzJosh: For my money, I always thought Craig Russell was the better female impersonator, but for sheer success, no has come close to Danny La Rue and no-one is ever likely to again. I doubt another drag queen will ever come close to his million ticket two year run at the Palace Theatre in London. To paraphrase Bob Hope’s quote, “Danny La Rue really was the most glamorous woman in the world.”.
Tobi
@OzJosh: La Rue sadly had to continue performing almost up until his death, even though he didn’t want to, given he’d been robbed of his life savings by a couple of Canadian conmen. In private he was open about his sexuality, having been in a life long relationship with a man, but in the 50s-60s you could still be imprisoned for being gay in the UK. There’s plenty of today’s actors and sportsmen who remain deeply in the closet, afraid that coming out might impact their earning potential.
Tobi
Just a heads up, girls, Queerty doesn’t publish posts that have the word “sc@mmed” in them. I had to use “robbed” instead. *sigh*
gemininature
@judysdad: NEWSFLASH: It’s still a “thing!” Maybe you haven’t been to a gay club in 30 years…..regardless, you sound out of touch and frankly bitter.