[SXSW 2021 Review] Udo Kier Stuns in Swan Song

A well-known face among the horror crowd, it’s nice to sit back and realize how much of a talent Udo Kier is when he turns out nuanced performances. This is not a slight against Kier, who has a career of entertaining, if sometimes gonzo, performances under his belt. Instead, it is a reminder that the out-spoken gay man who is known by horror fans for his sometimes campy and over-the-top performances is a force to be reckoned with. 

In Swan Song, he brings the sass as Mr. Pat, a flamboyant former hairdresser to the stars of Sandusky, Ohio. Pat Pitsenbarger was a real-life hairdresser and drag performer who left a lasting impression of writer/director Todd Stephens (Another Gay Movie). Pitsenbarger passed away in 2012 and Swan Song is a fantastic and fictionalized ode to this queer hero, who was brought to life with wicked delight by Kier. The plot is relatively straightforward. Mr. Pat used to be a hairdresser of relatively infamy and Rita Parker Sloan, one of his biggest clients, departed ways with him on bad terms years ago. The truth is, his former assistant Dee Dee Dale (Jennifer Coolidge) “stole” her from him when she left his business to open shop (directly across from his business).

Well, now she’s passed away and her will stipulated that she wanted him to do her hair one final time, for the tidy sum of $25,000. But gay men can be catty and his first response to the lawyer who brings him the news is, “Bury her with bad hair.” These little bon mots become a trait of Swan Song and Udo delivers them with such campy flair. Despite his initial rebuke, Mr. Pat realizes that he’s dying in the old folks home he’s currently living in and eventually rouses himself for a cross-town, uh, road trip of self-discovery.

Even though Swan Song is relegated to the streets of Sandusky, it takes on the traits of a road trip movie. Each location feels like a slightly meandering journey through town and is presented as little vignettes as Mr. Pat sees how much the town has changed in his life time. His eternal search for an out of date shampoo product (named Vivante because of course it is) introduces him to a variety of people, some who don’t know him and some who could never forget him.

Along the way, Swan Song allows Kier to really stretch his acting chops as well as deliver some hilarious moments, such as a sequence where he rides a motorized wheelchair down a busy street, ignoring the honking cars and pissed off drivers. He inhabits Mr. Pat’s persona with glee in the way he responds to someone telling him he was the Liberace of Sandusky, tilting his head with a sly affectation, “was I that butch?”

Yet, eclipsing those audacious scenes are the tender poignant moments of a man, at the end of his life, looking back at the progress and hindrances of gay people in the 21st century. It’s when Stephens’ story slows down and allows Patrick to really see how much the world’s changed that left lasting impressions and brought tears to the eye. Towards the end of the film, he sits on a park bench and watches in complete wonderment and awe as two queer dads play with their child at the park.

“Those kids will remember them long after they were gone. And who will remember us?”, his friend says, a reminder that the legacy of the older generations of queer men are survivors. Mr. Pat’s tale is one of resilience and yet it’s that resiliency that gives him such a haunted feeling. He’s a man who’s literally lost everything; a reminder of a generation lost to AIDS and bigotry. 

So while the malfunctioning chandelier helmet Mr. Pat jury-rigs for a final sashay down a stage made me laugh, that’s not what ultimately makes Swan Song so good. It’s this bittersweet image of Pat Pitsenbarger sitting on that bench, one foot firmly in the past’s torments and one in the future’s possibilities that will linger when I think back on Swan Song. Highly recommended.