Last weekend in a beautiful area just north of Brisbane, Marcus Craig died, aged 73. Marcus and I worked together in the mid 1970s at a club in Auckland called ‘The Ace of Clubs’, an allegedly sophisticated barn in Cook Street run by Phil Warren. In business terms the stage entertainment was part of a smoke and mirrors argument designed to help obtain a liquor license. As I was leaving one night after the show, a quite small and very drunk patron was engaging in racial abuse and attempting to punch the very large and extremely sober bouncer. The bouncer, who had clearly dealt with sophistication before, grabbed the front of the man’s shirt with one hand and turned it slightly so it became a handle and then he ran the surprised loudmouth about a foot and a half up the wall behind him so his feet were off the ground. ‘Listen mate’ he said softly to the man. ‘If you hit me. And I ever find out about it. I’m going to be fuckin annoyed. Now, go home’. And he left the man to crumple gently on to the ground and consider the position in its many aspects.
Marcus was the main entertainment at the club in those years. He appeared in drag as a character called Diamond Lil, often with the excellent Doug Aston as his partner and a house band led by Doug Smith. When I was there the marvellous Bridgette Allen was also on the bill. Bridgette could sing anything and could still the room to pin-drop or light it up like a Christmas tree. Doug Aston came from a British music hall tradition and often added form and structure to what Marcus was doing. What Marcus most wanted to do was sing opera, so he’d get the drag schtick working and then repay himself with an aria so unrelated to anything else in the show or to the way he looked, that the audience was delighted to find itself somewhere it had never been before.
Aside from being a terrific performer, Doug Aston was a caring and perceptive man who knew Marcus well and looked after him when he struck the occasional iceberg. For Marcus, the club and his work on-stage were life itself. He threw all his energy into it, his timing was fabulous, he was very generous on stage and he could really sing. Danny la Rue and many others specialised in glamorous costume changes and in Danny’s case in representing a cavalcade of great female stars. Marcus simply went out as Lil, with the burners on high and the safety catch off. His costume and demeanour were exaggerated to a point where you wondered whether he was impersonating a female or impersonating a female impersonator. Whatever he was doing, he was very good at it and the audience loved it. I don’t know when it all came to an end but some time during the 90s he moved to Sydney and after a period working at the Australian Opera Company, he moved to Queensland where he had a classical music show on Brisbane radio.
He remembered his days on stage with great fondness and with some pride. He was right to do so.
Shalom Marcus.