Interview: Drew Droege Doesn’t Mind If You’re Offended by Messy White Gays

Though based in Los Angeles, actor and writer Drew Droege has become a New York City favorite thanks to his hilarious solo shows Happy Birthday Doug and Bright Colors and Bold Patterns. Now, he’s sharing the stage with four other actors in the riotous and aptly titled Messy White Gays at the Duke on 42nd Street.

The 80-minute comedy revolves around a privileged gay couple who murder the third member of their throuple and then must deal with the unwanted arrival of their friends, as well as their nosy downstairs neighbor, Karl (played by Droege).

TheaterMania spoke with Droege about the show’s social commentary, writing the role of Karl for himself, taking potshots at famous celebrities, and his love for Jean Smart.

This conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

What was your biggest objective in writing the play? To make audiences laugh or to make them think about themselves?
Hopefully, audiences will be both laughing and thinking. But I know if they’re thinking too hard, they won’t be laughing. Still, when I was studying comedy, I learned it can be a social corrective—that people can better see the bad qualities of themselves and others more clearly in comedy.

Let’s talk more about how this show came about as well as its objectives.
My previous shows were not only solo shows, but they involved a birthday party and a wedding, so I knew I wanted to do something about a funeral. While I was writing, I was watching a lot of Hitchcock movies—I grew up on his work—so I thought, what if this play was about a murder and how we consider each other disposable. And I really wanted to explore white privilege in the gay community. I’ve been to so many gay parties with no POC, no trans folk, very few women—we’re not getting together being MAGA—but there is definitely a lack of inclusion. And while we often say the right things, what are we actually doing about racism or universal rights?

Is the play also about ageism in the gay community?
Gay men laugh about how old everyone is, including themselves, no matter what their age. So, while there is some banter, I didn’t want to make a serious comment on this younger generation of gays being worse than any other. At one point, we thought about making the other characters even younger, but we decided to stick with them being 30-ish. Let’s face it, Karl is much older than the other guys, yet he only gives them bad advice.

You wrote Karl for yourself, right?
Yes, but it’s the least autobiographical show of mine. I thought a lot about what kind of role I could play that is a little different from those in my solo shows. Karl has a darkness and selfishness that my other characters don’t. I wanted him to be someone you think is the moral center of the play, but then it turns out he’s not. If that frustrates some people, that’s OK with me.

Tell me what the experience has been like of being the writer of the play and an actor, but not the director. How involved were you in things like casting?
I have incredible teams of producers and designers who come to me with thoughts and questions, but I couldn’t do this without them and our director, Mike Donahue. When we were casting, we had different opinions, but we came back to same people. During rehearsals, I am sure I drove Mike crazy with suggestions about line readings, but he is so collaborative and asks so many good questions about why I wrote something the way I did. Honestly. I also learned so much doing Titanique with Marla Mindelle and Constantine Rousouli [both of whom starred in and wrote the show). Watching how they had to let go of things, I learned so much—including how to just be an actor. It’s been scary, but exciting and fun.

The play is very New York-centric in its references. Are you concerned about audiences elsewhere not getting those jokes?
Not really. It’s true that when we’re in New York, you only have to say Arriba Arriba [a restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen] and everyone laughs. I learned that even if they don’t get everything in LA, they still laugh. At one point, I tried to fictionalize things, but it got so muddy that it wasn’t funny. Sticking with real people and places was easier than creating a new reference.

The play is partly a love letter to Jean Smart. There’s even a cut-out of her in the lobby. Is that about Hacks or Designing Women?
All the gay men I know are Hacks fans, as am I, but it’s good to know Designing Women has also come back. I was glued to that show growing up in North Carolina. My mother was an interior designer and she’s part of all four of those women. Jean’s character, Charlene, always was my favorite. She never hogged the spotlight.

On the other hand, there are a bunch of nasty comments about real people in the play, from Lea Michele to the late Maya Angelou. Clearly, you’re not afraid of offending anyone?
Actually, Maya was a professor of mine at Wake Forest University. Getting to say mean things onstage is a kind of exorcism for me. I am Southern and very nice in person, but I am a demon once my laptop comes out. But, let’s face it, they’re all terrible people in this play, so they wouldn’t be afraid of crossing any lines. And I hate it when modern plays have no teeth. This isn’t Murphy Brown. You’re not supposed to agree with everything.