By Derek May:
Last night, my wife and I watched Die Hard.
Well, not exactly. We saw a stage performance of the film.
Well, not exactly. We saw a one-man minimalist slam-poetry retelling of the film interspersed with a heartfelt personal journey detailing the rise and fall and rise again of a beautiful and tragic romance.
So, I mean, you know . . . Die Hard.
And it was glorious.
Yippie Ki Yay is the brainchild of writer and performer Richard Marsh, a skinny, somewhat nebbish young white man with an impressive resume of creations, awards and, apparently, talent. At least according to his bio. Because we never saw Marsh. Instead, our show that night was headlined by “alternate performer” Darrel Bailey, a tall, stout Black man of equally impressive stage credits and accolades—and if I hadn’t learned later that he wasn’t the originator of the show, I’d never have guessed otherwise.
I knew next to nothing about this show when we bought the tickets a few weeks ago, only that it was a one-man retelling of the original Die Hard film and that the tickets were half off for Black Friday: Sold! Fortunately, I have a lovely wife who enjoys a good (or even a cheesy) action film almost as much as I do, but I was curious who the audience might be for this performance. As we entered the bowels of downtown San Antonio’s beautiful Tobin Center, I looked about the small Carlos Alvarez Studio Theater to gauge the demographics. I expected to see a lot of dudes—like myself—and some significant others and perhaps a kid or two, all with dour faces at having been dragged along. Not so, as I happily discovered. There were a breadth of smiling faces, all seemingly excited for the show, pumped up by the film’s score emanating from the speakers pre-show. And as the performance went on, the laughs, cheers, and mirth echoing from lips of young and old, man and woman alike seemed genuine.
From the moment Darrel entered from stage left, the show delivered an onslaught of surprises. He obviously wasn’t trying to impersonate Bruce Willis directly (his bald head and beard being sort of a reverse of Willis’s of that era), but instead embodied a familiar homage to the character of John McClane that wasn’t quite parody but neither quite imitation. Then he dropped the faux Jersey accent to reveal his natural London timber—perhaps the biggest shock of the show! Darrel would continue to alternate between honorific sendups of each main character, from golden-coiffed ballerino Karl to Holly McClane (excuse me, Gennaro) to undoubtedly everyone’s favorite, the villainous Hans Gruber.
Seriously, his Hans was just delightfully ridiculous.
And then, yet another twist. At various points, Darrel paused the movie to regale us with the story of meeting his wife, Jen. Their first date revolved around—you guessed it!—watching Die Hard. From proposal to wedding to having kids and, ultimately, to the waning of their romance as life and drudgery take their toll, we find that Die Hard, in one form or another, was a staple along the way. And, in fact, it was the creation of the very show we were watching that ultimately helped save their relationship.
Talk about art imitating life!
It was quite a shock to learn that it may not have been Darrel and Jen originally at the center of that tale, as the rhymes and references seemed tailored to that so perfectly. But it doesn’t really matter, because Darrel’s performance was so engaging we all happily bought in. The tragedy and tears felt real in those fleeting moments onstage, equal in every way to the ridiculous comedic energy he injected into the sillier aspects of the film (Ok, I admit, there might be few…) or the child-like exuberance of pretending to gun down henchmen with his invisible machine gun (Ho, Ho, Ho) or battling his nemesis in effigy as a stuffed bear.
The audience was there for every minute, engaging and feeding Darrel, who would break the fourth wall now and again to provide a quip or playful observation. By the end, the standing ovation he received was heartfelt, and many of us queued up (cuz he’s British, get it!) to grab pictures with him after the show, which he graciously obliged.
By the time of this publishing, Yippie Ki Yay will likely be wrapping up its North American tour (two more stops in Texas and one in Toronto) and heading back to the UK. But I highly doubt we won’t see it coming back through in years to come. Since its premier in 2022, the show has been racking up awards and accolades (deservedly so) and expanding its global reach. If and when it comes near you in 2025 or beyond, I highly recommend giving it a chance. You don’t have to be a Die Hard fan to enjoy the skill and creativity behind the show. If you enjoy theatre, if you enjoy being taken on a fun, unique journey for an evening, consider supporting these talented and hilariously creative artists.
And if you are fortunate enough to be like me and see it around the holidays, then all the better. After all, Die Hard is and always has been a Christmas movie!
Derek May, of San Antonio, TX, is Editor-in-Chief and occasional writer for Flapper Press. He has written nearly 50 movie reviews for movieweb.com and completed 13 original feature film and television screenplays, many of which have been winners or finalists in such prestigious competitions as the Walt Disney and Nicholl Fellowships, the Austin Film Festival, and the Creative World Awards. He served as a judge for 10 years for the Austin Film Festival and Texas Film Institute screenplay competitions. His latest project is the highly acclaimed stop-motion animation fan series Highlander: Veritas, which released its second season in July 2022.
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