Holding On, Letting Go, and Moving Forward with Ryan Okinaka's The Golden Gays

Kumu Kahua Theatre, the black box community theatre in Honolulu, Hawai’i, celebrated Pride Month and ended its fifty-fourth season with the world premiere of Ryan Okinaka’s The Golden Gays, written by Ryan “Oki” Naka and directed by Denny Hironaga. As the title suggests, the play pays homage to the groundbreaking American sitcom The Golden Girls, which first aired in 1985. The four beloved characters from the original sitcom were reimagined as four middle-aged, queer, local Hawaiians navigating their lives in a run-down condo near Waikiki Beach. Through the power of comedy, a rejuvenating two-act performance that ran over three hours reminded the audience how and why queer people will continue to thrive in defiance of political suppression and erasure.

I went to see the play on a Friday night, and Kumu Kahua Theatre was filled up to their hundred-seat capacity. A quick glance through the room, and I recognized that the majority of the audience were local seniors and middle-aged folks who might remember watching The Golden Girls on television. Indeed, the assumption seems fairly accurate, as the audience caught a handful of jokes and skits based on the 1980s and 1990s references that I, a Vietnamese-born international student who just recently immigrated to the United States, would never understand. I was introduced to The Golden Girls later in life with the help of YouTube, and I had only a mere reference to who was playing/referencing whom in “Oki” Naka’s theatrical adaptation. In the original television series, the term "golden girls" refers to four elderly women who share a home and experience a range of everyday life events together. A similar connotation goes with The Golden Gays, where four queer characters tackle their daily chores, desires, and secrets as they prepare for a grand fundraising drag show towards the end of the play.

Told in rapid, television parody scenes, the play narrates four golden gays’ daily struggles as they share not just slices of cheesecake but also their thematic arcs of holding on, letting go, and moving forward. Jimmy (Charles “Chaz” Hill), who co-owned the house with his late husband, Brian, lingers between cherished memories his husband and Takeo (Shiro Kawai), the new Japanese coffee shop owner and now his love interest. The kind Takeo offers to help fix up the condo as a gesture to fill in the void in Jimmy's heart. But Jimmy, who resembles the naive Rose Nylund from the original television series, fluctuates. Takeo’s sincerity prevails as Jimmy symbolically turns off the lamp that holds memories of Jimmy and his late husband. I wish we could see more development of this couple, as the two actors seem to have genuine chemistry. Chaz Hill, more specifically, excels through his imprudent facial expressions.

The retired dancer and choreographer Anuenue (Eriq Steinwandt-Gudoy), while having enjoyed the carefree and lavish life cruising in the hottest gay bars on Waikiki, finds himself catching feelings for Mitch (Manuel Moreno), a backup dancer. Like the iconic Blanche Devereaux, the phrase “settle down” never appears in Anuenue’s life dictionary. Yet the ambitious, overconfident, and naive Mitch seems to tame the attention-craving former choreographer. Despite having common sexual desires for each other, the couple briefly breaks up when Mitch refuses to perform in Aunty Maria Lani Tunta’s (Kahana Ho) annual fundraising drag show because he thinks it will never launch his career. While I enjoyed both actors’ energetic performances, their stereotypical rekindling and happy ending does not hold much emotion. Some complex decisions or turns of events would make the couple more interesting.

Perhaps the most fully developed story is Tommy’s (Kevin Keaveney). Resembling the life and sarcastic humor of Dorothy Zbornak, Tommy, the divorced lawyer, plays tug-of-war over his identity. He tangos between his past—a thirty-year marriage to Crystal (Karen Kuioka Hironaga), who frequently tries to reestablish their relationship—and the present in which he gradually navigates the closeted gay life with the help of his daughter, Khelsea (Elexis Draine). The most touching scene was perhaps the minutes in the make-up room when Tommy finally acknowledges his true identity, sobbingly shouting, "I'm gay!" to Crystal as the answer that his ex-wife had been yearning for finally comes out. They finally free each other but commit to supporting each other. Tommy’s journey through self-confrontation to comfort in his new skin might resonate with the larger gay population, bringing a glimpse of hope to those who have not yet found their exit from a similar situation.

That said, the play has done more than just serve the community nostalgia and pleasure. What truly glued the performance together was the way issues of diversity, visibility, and marginalized communities’ rights were frequently addressed, even if these were ironically timed amidst the current political upheavals for American people. Interestingly, this season of Kumu Kahua Theatre saw two queer-related stories being produced at its beginning and ending. Kanaka Ho, fortunately and fascinatingly, starred in both Moses Goods III’s Lovey Lee, the season’s premiere production, and in The Golden Gays. Both times, Kanaka played māhu characters (Native Hawaiian word to indicate transgender and/or queer people) whose backstories dealt with the historical mistreatment of trans and queer people living in 1960s and 1970s Hawaiʻi. In the former, she was the ghost of a sex worker and the protagonist’s conscious spirit, and in the latter she was the hysterical māhu Aunty Maria Lani Tunta, who took care of Tommy after his real parents’ passing. The witty Aunty Mary—sharing the characteristics of The Golden Girls’s Sophia Petrillo—hints at some sign of sickness throughout the first act yet stubbornly neglects to seek medical care. She is then diagnosed with an early-stage cancer, which flips her life, and the drag show that she pours sweat and blood into organizing, upside down. She chooses to face reality, no matter how harsh it turns out to be: On Tommy’s arm, Aunty Mary gently goes to the treatment room, transforming herself one more time.

Aunty Mary reminds the audience of the importance of drag as resistance and historical records of visibility.

Like the tiny caterpillar transforming itself into the magnificent butterfly, Aunty Mary reappears to perform the opening act in her dream drag show that her housemates realized. The stage, too, transforms into the dance stage. Before introducing the first and perhaps only performance of the drag act “The Golden Gays,” Aunty Mary reminds the audience of the importance of drag as resistance and historical records of visibility. Dressed in her sequined black cocktail dress, she stands firmly at the center of the stage to affirm to everyone that no political or social forces could erase the factual existence of drag performers and the transgender community. They should be treated like anyone, with compassion, love, and genuineness.

Aunty Marie’s affirmational and inspiring speech reminds the audience that the message of a fictional work can overflow into reality and tightly interweave with the everyday situations faced not just by the characters on stage but also those who played them. As the cast took the final bow to the standing ovation cheering for the magnificent drag performances as well as the overall play, Karen Kuioka Hironaga (Crystal) introduced Kumu Kahua Theatre’s artistic director, Harry Wong III, who gave some tender-hearted remarks. Wong announced the funding freeze from the state, which has funded the theatre annually. While the current fifty-fourth season can end on a high note (as evidenced by the continuous sold-out performances of The Golden Gays), the upcoming fifty-fifth season is in a dire situation due to the freeze, he explained. As Wong continued and reassured that Kumu Kahua Theatre “won’t go anywhere,” the artistic director also amplified the crucial role of donors and sponsors and encouraged those who had not subscribed or donated to the theatre to make the effort to do so. Moved by his words, I submitted to their monthly donorship portal the following day.

Through community we can help each other through all kinds of uncertainties and upheavals.

As we finally ended the night and walked out of the theatre, the three Golden Gays, Tommy, Jimmy, and Anueue, all still dressed in their bedazzled drag costumes, greeted the audience at the door. They were embraced in warm hugs, congratulatory leis, and cheering praises from the audience. The audience’s constant enthrallment suggests that both the playwright and the director have touched upon some core memories while still managing to set their unique stories and styles with local Hawaiian Pidgin language and cultural preferences. The play truly embraces Kumu Kahua’s artistic vision and mission as perhaps the only community theatre in town that produces “Plays about life in Hawaiʻi—Plays by Hawaiʻi playwrights—Plays for people of Hawaiʻi.”

I took the late-night bus home through the historical Chinatown in downtown Honolulu, where Kumu Kahua Theatre is based. I kept thinking of a plethora of “what if” questions: What if the world revolves around human tragedy coming from all sorts of suppression and oppression, and what if there were no sources to liberate their souls? What if we become more apathetic towards each other, seeing someone’s pain as if it could never be ours? What if it was a slow death of humankind, in which stories about diverse love become too distant for the future generations to comprehend? Surely, all of the worst scenarios regarding theatre’s future and the possibility for diverse stories in America ran through my mind. What drives us through these hardships, just like the characters in the play, is hope that we translate into actions for positive change. It just might be evident in the play: No physical degradation or psychological fear could ever beat you down should you be willing to transgress all obstacles.

Through the arts we sensorially share knowledge while being individuals with different backgrounds. Through art, we voice ourselves to the community, contributing a common ground where ideas are treated with respect and sincerity. Through art, diversity grows, and harmful ideas perish. But that art, inevitably, becomes a threat to certain groups of people who try to shape the world into the same mold as them, physically, psychologically, and ideologically. However, one thing is certain and has been proven in history: When more hands are joined to protect marginalized communities, recognizing and acknowledging their efforts while germinating positive intentions and humane actions, that community will find solid ground and will ultimately survive. Through community we can help each other through all kinds of uncertainties and upheavals.