For more than 50 years, Brighton’s David Raven has performed as Maisie Trollette. He is officially Britain’s oldest drag act. Or rather “drag artiste’” as he insists. Lee Cooper’s warm, witty, wonderful film chronicles David’s life and makeup routines in the run-up to its subject’s 85th birthday.
Decades into Maisie’s storied stage career, she encounters a rival. Aged 87, Portland’s Walter Cole, who performs as Darcelle XV, is officially the Guinness World Record-holding oldest drag act.
They are very different drag artistes. Maisie is an end-of-pier pantomime dame who tearfully belts out such standards as Lady is a Tramp and If I Never Sing Another Song; the sleeker Darcelle does not use a Brillo pad to apply makeup.
Their double act lives up to its billing. “This is an American dress, you know,” says Maisie, gesturing towards her animal print frock. “One yank and it’s off.” Over high tea, David tells Walter that he never swears on stage; he certainly makes up for the deficit offstage, where he variously struggles with wigs and gloves. “Look at that fucking deformed thing,” he rages against his own finger.
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Introducing the battling doyennes on stage, local performer Miss Jason notes: “This is part of our history and it will become part of our heritage”. That’s a fine assessment. Cooper’s film is a living, heaving, effing, blinding tribute to an art that has been changed forever by Ru Paul and bottomless brunches.
It’s a film composed of small, touching, intimate details, like David pottering around his garden or valiantly tugging at tights. The same maxim holds for both the documentary and its subject: they don’t like them like this anymore.
