This assignment was an evening of surprises. The first was upon entering the quaint Family Theatre at the Kennedy Center and, if you are early enough, being handed what one expects to be a show program. Upon second look though, it is instead a legitimate Tupperware catalog for the evening’s festivities. Which triggers surprise number two: what you are about to see is not only an alternatingly charming to hilarious and very well-executed drag comedy presentation, but one that is wrapped in an actual Tupperware party. (For those too late to get the catalog, a table is set up to purchase after the show, complete with individual attention and hugs from the hostess herself.) The brainchild of Kris Andersson (the alter ego of reformed ex-con turned social entrepreneur and star of the show Dixie Longate) and directed by Patrick Richwood, Dixie’s Tupperware Party, a former New York Fringe Festival and off-Broadway hit, is a fun-filled 90 minute romp that’s equal parts history lesson, sales promotion, social commentary, audience participation, trailer park humor, double entendres, day drinking, Tennessee Williams, and Mama’s Family.

After an initial demonstration of the #415 sealed cup with insertable straw, (immediately filled with wine to set the tone of this party), Dixie treats us to a tribute to the originator and queen mother of the Tupperware Party, Brownie Wise. Wise had the ingenuity to take the new polyethylene food storage creations of Earl Tupper and create a marketing kingdom one living room party at a time, which enabled women of the 50s to not only earn an income while maintaining a family schedule, but also connect to a network of other women to gather, socialize, drink, commiserate, and share their experiences and recommendations of the brand, actually demonstrating the products for more effective sales while bonding in a new setting. Wise was eventually (for a time) rewarded for her marketing breakthrough by being named Vice President of Tupperware Home Parties, until, as usual, her star eclipsed that of the men who outranked her. When she released an autobiography that Tupper found “undermining of the company image”, Wise was unceremoniously stripped of her title and scrubbed from all mentions in the company history.

Dixie, in her flashy, festive red checkered picnic tablecloth inspired dress is all the big-haired, big-hearted, big-spirited personality a good Southern hostess should be. She’s vivacious and engaging as she spins stories about her checkered-as-her-dress past as an ex-con (her first exposure to Tupperware was at the strong suggestion of her parole officer, inspired by Dixie’s fascination with a particular decorative plastic candy bowl on her desk), her children, and her R-rated personal life in between legitimate product presentations touting and demonstrating the benefits of various Tupperwear containers and gadgets, from the #730 rectangular cake carrier (which can transport a 9 x 13 cake on one side, and 18 cupcakes—or 54 vodka jello shooters—on the flip side), to a series of #430 collapsible bowls (which allow you to shrink the container as you consume the contents till it’s flat to take up no dishwasher space), as well as a pair of hemispherical citrus containers–perfect for storing the remaining half of your tomato, onion, lemon, or orange (pronounced “ernge”)—with a bonus square container (affectionately nicknamed “two boobs and a box”), a variation on grandma’s sealed juice pitcher (now with a central infusing column, also given an anatomically risqué nickname), and a somewhat complicated reinvention of the familiar hand can opener (used as an audience participation segment to give a cocky audience member his comeuppance for being inappropriately feisty with the hostess). Note to all audience volunteers: Audience participation completely backfires when the member thinks they’re funnier than the host, and intends to prove it. Dixie rectified that misconception in a fashion that was simultaneously professional, obviously funnier than he, and yet profoundly lady-like—again, the perfect hostess.

As the foundation of the product is its superior airtight seal, she emphasizes the proper sealing technique to meticulously tend the seal completely around the perimeter, a technique she refers to as “rimming” (as in “sealing around the entire rim”). Of course she gets maximum laughs from this bit by staging a final audience participation race between a senior gay couple and a sweet older married couple. Three guesses who handily won the evening’s rimming contest—and maximum laughs—by properly sealing three collapsible containers in the fastest time. As the victors, the gay couple won a matching pair of seafoam green collapsible bowls.

The evening is a success on all fronts that feels like the maxi-challenge winner of the annual “create a commercial” episode of the definitive drag experience, RuPaul’s Drag Race. Dixie Longate meets all the criteria of the challenge—superior branding, engaging presentation, thorough knowledge of her product and her persona, bonding with the audience through showing vulnerablity, all while making you laugh till your sides hurt. But under this definitive checklist that makes her a winner, baby (even if the best she ever did in the national Tupperware sales competition was first runner-up), Dixie Longate is at heart a welcome throwback to a gentler and friendlier time, a master of human connection who laments that these neighborly social events that served a valuable purpose to women at one time have been replaced by the impersonal and isolating act of ordering the products on the internet today (in between other online activities that have also sadly become solo and impersonal in nature). And it’s a shame, because Dixie Longate reminds us how good it feels to convene, and converse, and share, and welcome a hostess into our homes and our hearts. Who knew it would take a drag queen to not only bring us back to our down-home, good-natured, old-fashioned family and community values, but to make us realize we ever missed them in the first place. Ponder that while you’re snacking from your stylish #860 chip’n’dip set (with not one but two microwavable dip containers, perfect for dips, salsa, or sauces).
Dixie’s Tupperware Party features adult humor and sexual references.
Running Time: Approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes with one intermission
Dixie’s Tupperware Party currently plays through June 2, 2024, at the Family Theatre at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, 2700 F Street NW, Washington DC 20566. For tickets, call the box office at 202.467.4600 or purchase online.
Thank you for your kind review, sweet angel. I’m so glad you enjoyed the show. You make me all tingly.
Keep on Rimming
xox
Dixie
It was most well deserved. Thank you for a wonderful evening worth the drive from Baltimore!