Starring Patrick Swayze, Wesley Snipes, and John Leguizamo. Rated mature.

Opens Friday, September 8, at the

Granville 7, Oakridge, Scott 72, and others

"I've never seen this America place," explains Noxeema (Wesley Snipes), worrying about hinterland reactions to "people like us". Noxeema's one of three New York drag queens (or folks "with too much fashion sense for one gender") contemplating a car trek to Los Angeles, and the land between is a terra incognita she'd just as soon leave that way. But then, Noxeema is black, gay, and oh-so-cynical, while Vida (Patrick Swayze) is an eternal optimist from a wealthy suburb. Their prot?g?, Chi Chi (John Leguizamo), is just, well, Chi Chi.

Director Beeban Kidron (Antonia and Jane, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit) is no stranger to sexual battle lines, but she clearly prefers wars of wit to actual conflict. That means the big-hatted trio in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (the inscription on a framed photo Vida takes to be their group talisman), travelling in a rickety Cadillac convertible–for once yellow, not red–are not likely to end up in an update of Mississippi Burning. The car eventually breaks down in the tiny town of Snydersville–actually Loma, Nebraska–and the locals do seem to have stepped straight out of Deliverance. By the end of the story, however, our fairy godmothers have turned it into Cicely, Alaska.

Naturally, a tale as fundamentally whimsical as this is entirely cast-dependent, and Wong Foo boasts a no-lose lineup. It was a marketing coup to get macho stars Snipes and Swayze to don crinoline and Spandex (opinions will vary about having these openly gay characters played by actors who are openly straight), but the big winner is Leguizamo. This Colombian-born writer and performance artist has done plenty of drag acts before, in one-man Broadway shows like Mambo Mouth and Spic-o-Rama and on his TV series House of Buggin', and it's clear why–he makes a great-looking woman! He also gets the funniest and most touching lines in a film that's refreshingly unafraid to yank the old heartstrings.

But let's not overlook Stockard Channing, Blythe Danner, and Melinda Dillon as the put-upon wives of po'-white-trash brutes (led by a bearded Arliss Howard). Or Dazed and Confused's Jason London as a good young boy who takes a shine to Miss Chi Chi. Or Chris Penn as a redneck sheriff who tries to track the "gals" down (in homosexual hangouts like flower shops, ballet schools, and places that serve brunch). Actually, the further you dig into Wong Foo, the more it becomes a female-empowerment fantasy–then again, isn't that always a big part of the aesthetics of drag?

If the film's social commentary is ultimately rather toothless, the bittersweet script from Douglas Carter Beane, who comes from a theatre background, makes up for it with appropriately playlike dialogue. And fun is the main dish served by choreographer Kenny Ortega, along with unfailingly clever work from Spike Lee's production designer, Madonna's costume artist, the cinematographer from Strictly Ballroom, and, of course, Kidron, whose affection for all the characters–even the "bad" ones–is the movie's real theme. (We don't even have to mention the music.) So come on: everybody Wong Foo tonight.