Ammar Sabilarrohman
Every Friday night, IndieWire After Dark turns its gaze toward the fringes of cinema history, excavating the cult classics and midnight movies that defined—and continue to redefine—the landscape of independent film. This week, we examine the evolution of drag in pop culture, contrasting the polished, global phenomenon of the RuPaul’s Drag Race franchise with the gritty, neon-soaked, and fiercely DIY roots of 1991’s Vegas in Space.
The Evolution of Drag: From Underground to Mainstream
When RuPaul’s Drag Race first premiered on Logo in 2009, it was a subversive, low-budget experiment that eventually blossomed into a cultural juggernaut. It signaled a profound shift: drag, once a niche queer art form relegated to the dark corners of underground nightlife, was suddenly being codified for the masses. Today, the "Drag Race" ecosystem functions as a high-octane engine for career advancement, turning queens into household names, brand ambassadors, and red-carpet fixtures.
This week’s theatrical release of Stop! That! Train! serves as the latest evolution of this momentum. The film relies heavily on the audience’s pre-existing parasocial relationships with established reality stars like Jujubee and Ginger Minj. While it features cameos from mainstream icons like Sarah Michelle Gellar and Joel McHale, its heartbeat is the commercialized, high-definition polish of the modern reality TV era.
A Chronology of Queer Representation
To understand the current state of drag on screen, one must look back at the cinematic history that paved the way. Hollywood has long been fascinated with the "man in a dress" trope, utilizing it for comedic relief in classics like Some Like It Hot, Mrs. Doubtfire, and The Birdcage. However, these films were almost exclusively populated by cisgender actors playing "divas," rarely giving the stage to the actual professionals of the craft.
In the 1990s, films like To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert brought drag closer to the mainstream. Yet, these projects remained distinct from the raw, community-driven filmmaking of the era’s true pioneers. The distinction is not merely aesthetic; it is economic and philosophical. The drag films of the 80s and 90s were often born of necessity, created by artists who lacked the backing of major studios and were forced to rely on sheer, unadulterated ingenuity.
Case Study: The Scrappy Brilliance of ‘Vegas in Space’
Distributed by Troma Entertainment in 1991, Vegas in Space stands as a definitive, if chaotic, time capsule of the San Francisco drag scene. The production was a monumental labor of love for director Phillip R. Ford and star Doris Fish. It took eight years for the team to scrape together the necessary funding, and the resulting film was shot over 18 months—largely within the confines of a single apartment.
The film is set on the planet "Clitoris," a glittering, resort-like world where only women are permitted to visit. The plot follows three male space explorers—Captain Tracy (Fish), Mike (Ramona Fisher), and Steve (Lori Naslundmale)—who ingest sex-reversal pills to infiltrate the planet and recover a stolen, rare gem known as "Girlinia."
What makes Vegas in Space a masterclass in independent filmmaking is how it leverages its limitations. With almost zero budget, the creative team utilized miniatures, light projections, and creative drapery to build a sci-fi aesthetic that feels both futuristic and distinctly "drag." It is a testament to the fact that when you lack money, you must substitute polish with grit, camp, and a relentless, infectious joy.
Supporting Data: The Artist Behind the Legacy
Doris Fish, one of the most prominent drag queens in San Francisco at the time, was the singular force behind the film’s visual identity. She didn’t just star in the film; she designed the costumes, the sets, and the miniatures, and performed the hair and makeup for the entire cast.
Tragically, Fish passed away from AIDS-related complications just months before the film’s release. She never saw the full scope of the cult appreciation that would follow, but her legacy endures. During this Pride Month, Vegas in Space serves as a poignant reminder that drag has provided deep, meaningful value to the queer community long before it was ever showcased on a high-budget digital marquee.
The Personal Lens: Reflections from Las Vegas
For many, Pride Month can feel like a contradiction—a time of forced celebration that sometimes leaves individuals feeling like "secret agents" rather than participants in a community. Writing from a hotel room in Las Vegas, Nevada—a city that feels simultaneously like a bastion of traditional masculinity and an explosion of queer maximalism—the contrast between the reality of the city and the fantasy of Vegas in Space becomes stark.
Las Vegas is a city built on the commitment to performance. Every Elvis impersonator, showgirl, and leather daddy is part of a grander, scripted existence. In that sense, Vegas in Space fits right in. It is a "crusty fantasyland" that demands the viewer abandon traditional, heteronormative standards of film criticism. If you try to view the film through the lens of a blockbuster comedy, you will miss the point. If you view it as an "oasis of glamour in a universe of mediocrity," you will find something truly special.
Implications: The Power of Sincerity
The most significant takeaway from Vegas in Space is the power of absolute sincerity. In an era where mainstream entertainment often leans into irony or detached commentary to avoid appearing "cringe," the cast and crew of this film committed to their vision with a level of conviction that is almost jarring.
They weren’t just trying to make a movie; they were documenting a culture of survival and expression. They embraced their masculine and feminine sides with an unapologetic imagination that transcends the standard narrative of "drag as a costume." The film implies that drag is not merely an external performance but a refusal to allow the outside world to define the roles one is expected to play.
Conclusion
As we look at the trajectory of drag in the 21st century, it is easy to focus on the glitz, the sponsorships, and the global reach of the Drag Race era. However, the true heartbeat of the art form remains in the DIY, scrappy, and profoundly personal works of the past.
Vegas in Space is not just a relic of the 90s; it is an enduring manifesto of queer creativity. It proves that you don’t need a massive production budget to change the world—or, at the very least, to create an unforgettable, campy journey through a galaxy where the rules of gender are rewritten with sequins and a sense of humor.
For those looking to understand the roots of the modern drag explosion, or for those simply seeking a piece of cinema that operates on a frequency of pure, unfiltered joy, Vegas in Space remains a mandatory viewing experience. It is currently streaming free on Fandango at Home via Prime Video, waiting for a new generation to discover its strange, glittering brilliance.
Lina Hope
Reynand Wu
