Photo: Michael von Redlich
Mona Mour Breaks Free
by Steve Desroches
The barf bags on the seats are not a warning, but a promise. Walking into the Grotta Bar, a funky cubby of nightlife that over the years has maintained a home for underground culture in Provincetown, the vibe is quickly set for Free Mona, the latest offering from drag provocateur Mona Mour. The stage is shielded by a crudely painted cloth scrim with the aforementioned air sickness bags on each seat, delicately stamped with Mona’s face and instructions should nausea set in. Considering the show ends with the Grotta Bar’s floor covered in fake poo and tater tots, it’s a good idea. Free Mona is chaotic, revelatory in a relentlessness, and gleefully subversive. It’s also a dazzling continuation of the counter culture and rebellious spirit that flips the table of expectations and convention in Provincetown, a much-needed ingredient in any arts community. So, as Free Mona begins, and it feels like Silence of the Lambs: The Musical, Mona is the kryptonite to the RuPaul’s Drag Race phenomenon, not in that she’s opposed to any of those queens, just that she’s not ready for prime time, like all the best innovators.
“Well, we knew I was going to be in a cage,” says Mour. “That’s about it. That and I wanted to sing ‘Buffalo Stance.’ Sing ‘Buffalo Stance’ and I wanted to sing ‘Vibeology.’ Everything else just followed, fell into place. It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous, not in the negative sense of the word. It’s just ridiculous. It’s comedia dell’arte. It’s Laurel and Hardy. It’s all of it. It’s Mona.”
Since first arriving about 20 years ago, Mona Mour has slammed a scuffed high heel down in Provincetown’s drag scene. There’s an air of mystery and caginess to her biography, in and out of drag, fitting considering Free Mona is performed behind bars and that the character feels born out of abiogenesis having devoured her twin before being fully formed. She became the darling of Showgirls with her elaborate performances, numerous back up dancers, and self-designed sets, going on to becoming Showgirl of the Year for 2009. But Mona pulled a bit of a disappearing act, emerging in Brooklyn, where she performed in the New York boroughs robust drag scene, one that is vastly different and independent of Manhattan’s. She reappeared back out of a hat in Provincetown several years later, staying here year-round ever since the pandemic, and come 2023 launched her first full-length solo show. Mona Mour has become the molten lava of the Provincetown drag scene, pulsing beneath in veins of fire and hiss, erupting once a week at the Grotta Bar. And despite this year’s theatrical calamity being performed in a cage, the Grotta Bar provides Mona with something that is essential to her performance ethos.
“Freedom,” says Mour. “The Grotta Bar is the underground, quite literally. There used to be more of it in Provincetown. There used to be more of an underground here. Other people do other things. And that’s good. Good for them. But Mona is edgy and gritty. She’s not the polished Provincetown. She’s very close to me, but not entirely me. She’s the best of me, which is the worst parts of me. She’s what I aspire to be.”
That aspiration includes being irreverent, which is what Mour always thought drag queens were supposed to be. Drag, at its cultural core, is punk. It’s meant to defy conventions, dictatorial genders roles, and to paraphrase Marlon Brando in The Wild One, to rebel against whatever anyone else has got. Mour takes no prisoners and no holds are barred. The unpredictable nature of her show is thrilling, and hilarious, while also really smart. It’s not chaos for chaos’ sake. In fact, there’s a narrative within all the mania and madness. And a commitment to craft, even though it appears that what you are actually watching is a glam rock drag revue of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest where you start to see Nurse Ratched’s point. And Mona’s drag aesthetic continues a great tradition in Provincetown, that of the Ruthie’s Boutique-inspired looks or diving into a drag trunk and seeing what comes out. Mour has that D.I.Y. look of a queen that might have a D.U.I., but more likely a U.T.I.
“When it’s on other people’s budgets I’m gorgeous,” says Mour. “When friends do Mona up, it’s a different story, darling. But, otherwise it’s TJ Maxx in Orleans for me. I ruin good clothes. I can’t wear a gown. I move around too much. I’d tear it to shreds. I can go to the debutante ball, but I’m much happier at the beer hall.”
Mour’s very much in the now, both in life and on stage. Her day job, waiting tables upstairs from the Grotta Bar at Local 186 has her busy as she’s about to embark on a day of a double shift with diners not realizing they’re being served by a master of guerilla drag. She gets the orders right, comes and asks if everything’s ok, and smiles. But she’s also containing an inner world with a gestation period of seven days, resulting in her Tuesday night show. But she can’t help but think of next summer, and the one after that. Her imagination is a renewable resource.
“I’m always thinking ahead,” says Mour. “When I’m at work and I’m pouring a Diet Coke, I think, ‘Let’s do a show about Diet Coke!’ It’s stupid. I’m like that all day. I’m always dreaming.”
Free Mona is at the Grotta Bar, 186 Commercial St., Tuesday now through August 26. At 9 p.m. Tickets ($35) are available at the door and online at free-mona.com.
