I’ll never forget the day I first saw her. I think I was twelve, and we were on a family holiday in country Australia. Being the (soon-to-be) gay kid that I was, I didn’t exactly fit in with the sports-mad straight boys I was forced to endure on these kinds of trips. So, I did what any fabulous outsider might: I raided the VHS collection at the house we were staying in and stumbled across The Ultimate Event — a filmed concert featuring Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., and Liza Minnelli.
Sammy opened the show — and he was great — but then she walked on. Belting her face off in a black sequin pantsuit, Liza lit up the screen. I was instantly obsessed. I must’ve watched that tape ten times that week.
As I got older, I devoured her entire catalogue — the films, the concerts, the albums. And, of course, her mother’s. Their status as gay icons only deepened my love. I mean, come on — Sally Bowles?! She’s astounding. There’s something about Liza that just spoke to me. Yes, the camp, the sequins, all the things a future drag queen would adore — but more than that, it was her vulnerability. Her ability to make you laugh and cry within seconds.
I didn’t start “doing” her until I was 29, when I performed one of her numbers as a comic bit on a gay cruise. It brought the house down. That moment sparked my first full show — Liza (on an E) — and the rest, as they say, is history.
Since then, I’ve been lucky enough to tour the world as her, performing for the most generous audiences — and even, at times, for her own friends and family. It’s surreal. Even though the show is often funny, I always try to ground it in truth and kindness. Because honestly, I think she’s one of the greatest entertainers who’s ever lived.
What I love most is imagining Liza singing songs she never actually performed — slipping her into roles or numbers and wondering how she might’ve made them her own. For me, it’s the ultimate tribute. She deserves that.
If she ever saw my act, I hope it would make her proud. The fact that she’s no longer able to perform is heartbreaking, but her legacy is eternal. And I hope I can be a small part of keeping it alive.
LIZA in TYPSY! runs from 7 – 11 May, at the Menier Chocolate Factory, 4 O’Meara Street, London SE1 1TE, United Kingdom.
