The Bitch Is Back: Sandra Bernhard

OF COURSE I'LL HAVE things to say about John McCain — and Cindy McCain, who I find to be a Barbie doll hooker, you know," says Sandra Bernhard. "But I'll find a fun way to say it."

So, that's a relief. Bernhard's wit has not been dulled by two decades, motherhood or the broken Seventh Seal: Prince covering — gasp — Radiohead.

It was the (in)famous finale of her 1990 film "Without You I'm Nothing" that saw Bernhard strip down to pasties and an American flag G-string while gyrating to Prince's then-controversial "Little Red Corvette." It was both brutally satirical and weirdly poignant, a nod to the symbiotic audience-performer relationship, and a dream of an America where Prince delivers the national anthem. The updated stage version returns to Theater J this week.

The Old Glory G-string will not make its Washington debut. "No pun intended, but this is already a stripped-down show," says Bernhard. "I do work out a lot, and I'm in good shape," but the expense of makeup artists, costumers and detailed staging is prohibitive.

But, says Bernhard, "In D.C., I'll pepper the show with politics." Surprised? "I'm on a real tear now about where I think Jews are at in terms of Israel and being co-opted by Evangelicals." Ah, that perennial crowd-pleaser, the Middle East. Sen. Joe Lieberman warrants a frothy mouthful. Which, naturally, leads to criticisms of President Bush — the second President Bush.

The first Bush was still in office when Bernhard's original show ripped into the hypocrisy of ongoing sex scandals involving cultural conservatives. "You cannot fight the funk," was her mantra, borrowed from gay disco diva Sylvester. And "it's still true," she says. "People who are angry and repressed turn into horrible people. Like Bush and Lieberman. And McCain. He's been a POW twice: once in Vietnam and again when the Republican Party destroyed his career in 2000. It's shocking."

But for an artist to shock an audience — to challenge its perception of reality — it's tougher these days. In the '80s, all it took to provoke a congressional inquiry was chocolate sauce and some B-grade blasphemy. Now the f-word appears in the Congressional record. People routinely claim to "meet" online. And the word "reality" generally appears in quotes. So Bernhard takes a new tack.

"I'm always shooting from the hip," she says. "Shooting from my emotions and my heart. It's easy to be cynical and smug. That's never informed my work. What's disarming is when you stand there and you really show who you are — that blows people's minds now more than ever. Because with texts and e-mail, they don't spend as much time really talking to each other."

And when they do talk, they're often freaked out. "We're a different country now," Bernhard says, between technology, post-9/11 paranoia and record levels of political absurdity. "Everything feels different. It has dumbed down America, made people jumpy and unable to focus. But that's what is great about being a live performer. You force people to sit for two hours and be part of a collective experience. That's unusal these days."

"I'm more concerned about mankind now than I was 20 years ago," Bernhard says. That's not surprising, as she's the mother of a 10-year-old daughter. "I would never let her go through some of the things I went through. I will be much more involved in her life than my parents were. It just so happened I never went down bad roads with drugs and alcohol. But, sexually, it's no time to play around. We'll be having some pretty frank conversations when the time is right."

So like everything else, Bernhard's signature show has changed. But, she promises, "The new pieces fit in and keep in the spirit of fun." All her years of plumbing the depths have taught her to "bring people to the edge emotionally, but bring them back before they go over."

"So," she says, "I bring the comedic and rock 'n' roll elements together — the whole package you used to get in Vegas — but I'm keeping it alive in my own twisted fashion."

The closing confession/indictment from the filmed show says it best: "I am a total phony and a fraud." But, "Without you, I'm nothing."

» Theater J, 1529 16th St. NW; through Sept. 28, $45-$85; 800-494-8497. (Dupont Circle)

Written by Express contributor Bob Massey
Photo by Ali Smith