In the early 1960s, a secluded bungalow camp in the Catskills was paradise to a few men. It was where they could be themselves — that is, women.
That real-life haven, where the most masculine guy could chillax in a bouffant and puffy skirt, provided the inspiration for “Casa Valentina,” Harvey Fierstein’s new dramedy.
Fierstein is Broadway’s reigning expert on gender-bending, having written “Torch Song Trilogy,” “La Cage aux Folles” and “Kinky Boots.” But here he explores a very different side of it.
These cross-dressers aren’t flamboyant drag queens but mostly button-down heterosexual men. George (Patrick Page) even runs the resort with his wife, Rita (Mare Winningham) — they met at her wig store, where he was shopping for his female alter ego, Valentina.
Our guide into this world is Jonathon (Gabriel Ebert), a young teacher who’s just driven up for his first weekend as a girl. The regulars quickly take him under their wing, giving him a makeover after he shows up for dinner looking like a drab escapee from “Little House on the Prairie.”
“She looks like Howard Cosell climbed up there to die,” Bessie (Tom McGowan) says of the newbie’s limp blond wig.
Yet Jonathon’s stumbling first steps are but a tasty side to the show’s main dish: a plan by well-heeled transvestite activist Charlotte (Reed Birney) to create an official sorority for cross-dressers.
“The enemy is secrecy,” she argues. “Remove the veil and remove the danger.” Tell that to Amy (Larry Pine), a judge who doesn’t want to risk his reputation or retirement.
Charlotte goes further, demanding that cross-dressers purge the homosexuals from the new group. Valentina, eager for her financial help, supports the plan, while the elderly Terry (John Cullum) and sassy Gloria (Nick Westrate) passionately oppose it.
They should have smelled a rat as soon as Charlotte said, “Not to toot my own horn, but there’s a Christlike element to my journey.”
The show, tightly directed by Joe Mantello, cruises through its first act, where Fierstein neatly balances pathos, killer one-liners — “I’m so pretty I should be set to music” — and a battle of ideas after Charlotte reveals her agenda. Things bog down after intermission, when there are one too many earnest speeches and saintly Rita admits to an unease with her marriage.
Still, the entire cast is a delight, making us empathize with the characters’ plights, dreams and journeys. And it’s especially fun to watch Birney — a specialist of milquetoast characters — play a villainess with a messiah complex. Paradise may be lost by the end, but it’s quite a ride to see it go down.