ANGELS, PART ONE
Angels in America! This damn show completely fucked my brain apart. (Yes, THAT'S what did it.) Imagine it: my very first night in Seattle ever, reading the script cover-to-cover while listening to Diamanda Galás's Plague Mass, quivering and whimpering and clutching my wineglass like the last lifeboat out of hell. That is some serious psychological self-fuckery right there, gurl. It is of course an absurdly dramatic and very weird story that follows several seriously messed-up characters in New York City in the early days of AIDS, and it's got it all: buttsex, terror, pathos, lesions, vomit, evil Republicans, Mormons, a little more terror and vomit and lesions, serendipitous dream communication (this was long before iPhones, you understand, and that's how people used to talk in ye olden times—in dreams), lawyers, hotties, and history, all bound up together in some sort of crazy cosmic conspiracy involving angels and ghosts. Um, hullo? No self-respecting 'mo should ever miss this show. Intiman Theatre, 7:30 pm, $45–$56, all ages, through Sept 21.
AREA 2181 GETS PLASTIC
Well, now here's a rather peculiar and somewhat newish thing: Area 2181, a dance party that is also "a social experiment for gay men." ("Social experiment"? That's refreshing: We're usually just left with the social diseases—see above.) Yes, these kids are on a mission: to "bring all walks of gayness together to celebrate our similarities" and get drunk and dance and stuff, because apparently none of them were asked to prom and/or got that pony for their sweet 16, and now we all have to hear about it. Kidding! Kidding. This time, the dance party is tackling a theme based upon "the Plastics" from the gay film classic Mean Girls—so you are supposed to dress the theme and be bitchy. To fight bitchiness. Or something. Fun! The Eagle, 9 pm–3 am, $5, 21+.
Well, now here's a rather wonderful and quite oldish thing: Flammable! You do understand, of course, that it is the longest-running house-music night on the West Coast (and has been for, like, 200 years) and therefore has to be doing something right, which is EVERYTHING! Hot, sweaty, sexy dancing freaks of all stripes like to call this every-Sunday event "church," and they all come out to worship at the feet of the beats. And everyone should go to church. This is fucking America. Re-bar, 10 pm, $7, 21+.