The best part of House of McQueen is the intermission. Then you can walk into a modest exhibit area — by way of a cocktail bar — where a dozen weirdly glorious ensembles created by tormented British fashion designer Alexander McQueen gleam on display in finger-tip proximity. Too bad that spectators then need to go back (or maybe not) to watch the remainder of a dreary new bio-play about the artist’s too-brief, too-unhappy life, which the poor fella ended at age 40 in 2010.
Premiering Tuesday at The Mansion at Hudson Yards, a new 500-seat venue in the far west 30s, House of McQueen is a tedious study of a remarkable individual. Somehow McQueen breaks free of a working class East London existence to forge himself into a controversial figure in the fashion and pop worlds through his bold artistry reflecting the dark sides of millennial times. Meanwhile, the workaholic McQueen looks for true gay love in all the wrong places, does drugs, neglects the faithful mum who believed in his gifts, and so and so and so on as the play trudges along for two repetitive hours divided by that essential intermission.
Expect a familiar tragedy of a young genius misunderstood and/or exploited by his loved ones and a cruel industry. Bookended by McQueen’s suicide, brief scenes dutifully detail his mostly sorrowful times. Darrah Cloud’s script is based on an idea by Seth Koch and Rick Lazes, the latter being the show’s executive producer. A seasoned playwright, Cloud delivers a terribly respectful, by-the-numbers bio-drama. Other than an underwater ballet-type idyll late in the proceedings (don’t ask), surprises are few. Gary James McQueen, the late artist’s nephew and an artist/designer of note, is the show’s creative director, so perhaps Cloud was commissioned to construct House of McQueen along highly reverent lines.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
The acting? It’s all right, given the script’s limitations. His Bridgerton locks shorn into a buzz cut, Luke Newton handsomely wears McQueen’s baggy jeans and T-shirts while sincerely projecting the sweet, rather inarticulate character’s burning desire to create beauty. McQueen’s madly neurotic self-appointed bestie, the fashionista Isabella Blow, is feverishly embodied by Catherine LeFrere. McQueen’s supportive mom is portrayed as a sensible soul by Emily Skinner. Other notable turns among a company of a dozen actors, most handling several roles ably, are provided by Denis Lambert as the designer’s glum dad and Margaret Odette as a snooty journalist.
Tons of money have been dropped on the elaborate production, which is staged by Sam Helfrich, who neatly meshes the performances with busy visuals. The results are not so much immersive as splashy. The dramaturgy is bolstered by complex, ever-changing layers of live and/or recorded video and vintage images variously projected against both a neutral background and LED panels angled over the stage. Distracting at times, the fluent visuals nicely convey a drug-trippy dance sequence and provide the jolts for an electro-shock experience (poor Isabella!). Yet they grow overwhelming towards the conclusion, although it may be the point of such excess. Designer Robert Wierzel’s sharply dramatic lighting, Andres Martin’s original music, and G Clausen’s sound design are supportive assets. The veteran costume designer Kaye Voyce artfully honors creations by McQueen and his contemporaries with lovely clothes while supplying everyday attire for the quick-changing performers.
The Mansion at Hudson Yards is a flexible events space inside a former warehouse situated in the 500 block of West 37th Street. Shame on me, I neglected to check out the bathrooms or the prices at the bar, but can attest the auditorium seating proves to be remarkably comfortable. Vintage theater seats of maroon upholstery and wood are arrayed across risers gently pitched back some 20 rows to view a high, wide and relatively shallow acting space.
No doubt the show’s makers intend to celebrate McQueen’s ideals and achievements in the face of awesome challenges. Rather than mount an overstuffed hagiography, surely a daring, provocative artist like McQueen deserves some sort of outrageous theater treatment. Perhaps McQueen’s life might be better told as a black comedy or a surreal romp that mocks the yawns of biographical yarns. Gosh, where’s Taylor Mac when you really need him?
House of McQueen opened September 9, 2025, at The Mansion at Hudson Yards and runs through October 19. Tickets and information: thehouseofmcqueen.com
