Nevins Is NEVER Just A Pretty Face

It's almost impossible to think, that after so many years of cabaret serving as a home to LGBT icons of both singing and comedy (immediate examples might include Klea Blackhurst, Funny Gay Males, Reno, Tommy Femia, Rainie Cole, Michael Marotta, Lynn Lavner and Steven Brinberg among so many), they actually have a new heir apparent. But this has wholeheartedly been delivered in the personage of Scott Nevins, who in his latest one-night-only appearance at the Laurie Beechman Theatre made it very clear that his talents are not only here to stay, but that he will be leaving most of us in the wake of his glorious and glittery dust.

What might strike one first, upon a glimpse of his angelic visage, is that he couldn't possibly be much more than a twenty-something with a gorgeous face who got lucky and crossed over into the near-mainstream, simply by the proverbial "strike a pose," or a visit to the casting couch, when nothing could be further from the truth. A twenty-nine-year-old native of Flushing, forced to endure a torturous upbringing, it was a mix of devotion to the world of entertainment, coupled with an almost-unthinkable physical energy and a sense of humor, as well as spot-on celebrity impersonation of both genders, that has completely propelled him to the top. The top, in this particular case, includes a gig as host of TruTV's "The Smoking Gun Presents..." and appearances as the cover-boy for Instinct Magazine, along with, one is quite certain, a tremendous future of other honors to come.

Nevins' live show, meanwhile, has to be seen to be truly appreciated, for words simply don't do it any manner of vaguely-felt justice. After firmly tearing into his opinions on such celebrities as Barbra Streisand, Petula Clark, Kathy Griffin and Andrea McArdle, and peppering the banter with impressions of Judy Garland and others when not engaging into uproarious one-on-one dialogue with the audience (including questions like, "Are there any straight men here tonight?" to which your reporter had to confess bringing the only heterosexual male in the room as a guest), it might make one wonder what would have happened if someone so brilliantly talented and riveting had been unleashed upon an unsuspecting audience at the Continental Baths in 1972, or thereabout.

There are honestly not enough superlatives to describe the sheer splendor that is Scott Nevins. If he should blissfully grace New York with his presence yet again at any time in the hopefully-immediate future, this writer could not urge untried audiences to attend more strongly. And then, to bring legions of friends. Never has the term "a must-see" been quite so applicable.