"Chins up, boobs out, it's showtime!" says Connie to Carla, the titular figures in Connie and Carla, the latest film to feature drag queens in a not-so-long chain of Hollywood drag movies. And showtime it is - Connie and Carla is a light, fluffy and sweet (think pink cotton candy) movie about straight women playing gay men, gay men playing women, and a straight man thinking that he's being played by a gay man playing a woman, all set to familiar show tunes from Broadway. Confusing? Not really.

Connie (Nia Vardalos) and Carla (Toni Collette) are a very unsuccessful airport lounge act in Chicago, singing show tunes to a totally unappreciative audience. This changes when they are witnesses to a murder and are forced to leave their hometown in order to hide from the murderers. They end up in Los Angeles, deep undercover as cross-dressing entertainers in a gay bar. Connie and Carla are much better than the other drag queens - for obvious reasons - and it's no surprise that they become an overnight sensation.



With fame, like always, comes problems, and the now successful duo are afraid that their newfound prominence would lead the murderers to their doorstep. Pretending to be Men In Drag also means they can never behave like true women, which becomes a major obstacle when Connie falls for Jeff (David Duchovny), a rather homophobic man who is trying to reestablish ties with his estranged brother Robert (Stephen Spinella). Jeff cannot understand why Robert wants to be a cross-dresser and is even reluctant to watch Robert perform (as Peaches). However, as he gradually warms up to Connie, Robert and their fellow friends, Jeff realises that the queens are actually no different from the regular Joes - except maybe for the makeup, and the glittery dresses�



If the plot of Connie and Carla sounds familiar, that's because Nia Vardalos' script borrows liberally from Some Like It Hot and Victor/Victoria. But as they say, imitation is the highest form of flattery, and whilst Connie and Carla does not come close to the standard of the two films, it manages to entertain with hilarious moments, a large repertoire of familiar Broadway songs, and some rather nifty stage performances. There is one of the most amusing renditions of Don't Cry For Me, Argentina I have ever seen (with a truly rousing finale), and the opening medley of show tunes is comedy gold indeed.



The peripheral storylines in Connie and Carla are quite well developed. The more emotionally resonant one would be Jeff's reluctance to accept Robert for who he is once Robert comes out to him, surely a scenario that more than a handful of gay men and women have found themselves in. It does lean towards stereotyping at times (especially the "typical" gay men that are portrayed in the film), but it's hard to fault the movie because one can tell that it means well.



Then there is the other subplot featuring a Russian hitman, Tibor (Boris McGiver), who is on the trail of Connie and Carla - in order to look for them he goes to every dinner theatre he can find between Chicago and Los Angeles, but somehow every theatre seems to be doing a production of Mame. After a while, Tibor grows to enjoy Mame, and can't seem to get enough of it. It's a great running gag that serves well as interludes for the main story.



However, both the crime and romantic story threads feel like filler amidst the highly entertaining frivolity that forms the rest of the movie. Every time the camera moves away from the stage too long the pace of the movie starts to sag. Thankfully, the film never strays too far from its campy performance pieces, which makes the down moments easier to bear.



Despite its flaws, Connie and Carla remains a highly likeable film that falls into the "feel-better" category - you just can't help but feel better after watching the movie. Like a road trip, it's obvious how Connie and Carla would end, but getting there is half the fun.