Doris Fish’s cult ‘Vegas in Space’ still sounds out of this world

First of all, Temptation: An odd genre choice, and why we’re just now discovering its niche. Then, Cutting: A spoiler-filled answer to the all-important question, “Is this old cult movie actually worth recommending?”

Bait: Pull on a dime (wait, what’s that in clitoral gems?)

When “RuPaul’s Drag Race” premiered on Logo in 2009, featuring the eponymous legend of the bizarre art form searching for America’s Next Drag Superstar through an ultimately victorious unscripted series, it heralded a slow but steady shift in the broader reach of drag in the mainstream.

Sure, conservative legislatures have attacked drag performers through bans and censorship with particular intensity in recent years, but these days, drag queens (or at least, drag queens who make it to “Drag Race”) can also become major media celebrities — parlaying their fame into brand deals, red carpet appearances and even other reality series, scripted TV shows and movies.

This week the “Drag Race” franchise returns with “Stop! That! Train!” reaches its natural big screen development with , a theatrical release based almost entirely on audience familiarity and existing buy-in with the queens the show has already platformed. Sure, there are plenty of celebrity cameos in the comedy (Sarah Michelle Gellar, Lisa Rinna and Joel McHale appear among others), but its real stars are RuPaul himself and former “Drag Race” superstars JuJubee and Ginger Minj.

This isn’t the first mainstream studio comedy About this Drag, of course. The 90s saw some classics like “To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar” and “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert”. Additionally, men disguising themselves as women is a major plot point in major Hollywood comedies ranging from “Some Like It Hot” and “Mrs. Doubtfire” to “Tootsie” and “The Birdcage”.

But those movies didn’t feature professional drag queens (RuPaul had an iconic cameo as the Confederate flag-wearing Rachel Tanning in ‘To Wong Foo’), but instead saw actors like Guy Pearce and Patrick Swayze rock heels and wigs as fabulous divas. Drag films that once focused on actual professionals of the underground craft had low budgets and were based on the new “Stop! That! Train!” were more rough around the edges than the 1980s, which even today one might not consider a particularly expensive production.

Just take “Vegas in Space,” a cult classic that doubles as an important snapshot of San Francisco’s drag scene during the late 1980s. Distributed by Troma Entertainment in 1991, the film’s main creative team – director Philip R. It took Ford and star Doris Fish eight years to raise the money needed to actually complete the project. The result is somewhat like a low-budget sendup of the “Buck Rogers” sci-fi movie set in a campy, totally fantastic gender-bending world. The pair spent 18 months shooting it and almost all of the film’s production took place in a single apartment.

The DIY, scrappy nature of Ford and Fish’s quirky indie film is clearly evident. Set on Planet Clitoris (really), a glamorous resort planet where only women are allowed, “Vegas in Space” creates its luxurious atmosphere using some candid miniatures, light projections and multiple sets that resemble creatively arranged cheap curtains. That charming and shaggy approach is perfect for this kind of campy and irreverent comedy, which ultimately substitutes polish for an equal mix of artistic grit and carefree joy.

Taking place in the vaguely distant future, “Vegas in Space” follows Fish’s Captain Tracy as he and his lieutenants Mike (Ramona Fisher) and Steve (Lori Naslundmale), three male space explorers from Earth ruled by a benevolent empress, take sex reversal pills to become women themselves and go into hiding on a scary nearby planet ruled by their leader’s supposedly evil sister. Arriving there, the detectives are investigating the disappearance of “Garlinia”, a rare gem recently stolen from their home.

The investigation soon brings them into a twisted conspiracy theory going on right under the noses of Planet Clitoris’s shady government. But the plot is merely a loose framework for the film’s real appeal, which is its fun, fabulous costumes, and talented use of its limited indie resources.

A passion project for the late Phish, who was one of San Francisco’s biggest drag queens at the time, “Vegas in Space” bears the artist’s fingerprints. In addition to writing the script with Ford, Fish designed the sets, costumes, and miniatures, while also doing hair and makeup for all the drag performers. Sadly, Fish did not live to see the film achieve its well-earned cult appreciation, dying of AIDS just months before his film’s premiere. But to celebrate Pride Month in 2026, “Vegas in Space” lives up to the legacy of a truly great artist and a reminder that drag had real value long before “Drag Race” put the community on global marquees. -Wilson Chapman

The Bite: Seeing “Vegas in Space” in Las Vegas, Nevada

As a bisexual woman with a generally disastrous dating track record, Pride Month can sometimes make me feel less like a beloved gay community member and more like a secret double agent. In that sense, Princess Angel and I will go far, away thoroughly.

That’s because every June, while all the full-time gays and lesbians I know are celebrating their queerness around the clock, I often find myself distracted by the golden retriever guy I’m currently dating. This does not happen every year, but happens every year. That’s how I found myself watching “Vegas in Space” while visiting a guy in Las Vegas… Nevada.

There I was, working from his apartment after dark when he finished his shift, in the environment of a famous American city that somehow manages to feel both aggressively straight and aggressively gay at the same time. Vegas is full of bachelor parties, drag revues, Elvis impersonators, wedding chapels, showgirls, leather daddies, casino grandmas and enough sequins to blind Liberace.

In that sense, like Ford and Fish’s “Vegas in Space,” the real Las Vegas is a decaying utopia built on a steadfast commitment to performance at all costs. Still, I knew this free-on-streaming cult classic would have an uphill battle to win me over with the stale-sounding premise — it appears to be sandwiched between the sexual politics of 1956’s “Forbidden Planet” and the missing genital scene from a “Star Trek”-inspired episode of “Black Mirror.” If I wanted a 90s cosmic adventure just for kids, I thought I’d watch “Spice World.” (Hey, there are aliens in this too!)

But somewhere along the way, miniatures like “Pee-wee’s Playhouse” and the reveal that our heroes are traveling on the U.S.S. intercourse (!!), “Vegas in Space” turned into “an oasis of glamor in a universe of mediocrity”. You don’t need official LGBTQ status or a “special clitoris intelligence alert” to understand why this gender-bending sex comedy is funny. And if you stop to evaluate its script by conventional (read: heteronormative) standards, you’ll find yourself completely believing in Ford and Fish’s dream.

What attracted me to “Vegas in Space” was not the ambition of the filmmakers, but the utmost sincerity of the cast and crew. Even while attempting to make Planet Clitoris feel ethereal and expansive, the team is committed to presenting a world that is extremely playful and hot to audiences who may or may not view it as entertainment that is already worthy of mainstream worship.

The fact that Ford and Fish attempted this with such limited resources makes their ambition all the more moving. It’s really hard to be honest and empathetic at the same time. Most people choose satire, but “Vegas in Space” displays an absurd level of conviction. Plus, the power of creativity and inspiration on display here really helped me understand more about the culture I’ve spent years admiring through “Drag Race.” I could see the DNA of many of the series’ challenges on screen in Ford and Fish’s film, but more importantly, I could also see why this style of comedy has always had such an impact on me.

This topic is a slam dunk for me too. I’ve always been attracted to stories about quirky female societies, whether they’re found in sci-fi cartoons, “Rick and Morty,” or old-school British comedies like “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” (Note: Yes, I know this is boy media. I am one Boy Sometimes!!)

Mostly, though, I found comfort in seeing people embrace both their masculine and feminine sides with such unattainable imagination. (Even if the male-to-female transformation sequence sometimes has the cast looking like that scene from “The Substance” with a farm animal mid-orgasm.)

By the time the credits rolled on “Vegas in Space”, the guy I was seeing had gone back from work and I was no longer alone on Planet Clitoris. It’s weird to spend part of Pride Month accidentally acting as a Vegas Housewife. Perhaps that is why Fish and Ford’s film was so successful. “Vegas in Space” isn’t really about escaping reality. It’s about refusing to let other people define the role you should play in a world you never asked to live in.

Then again, after actually spending some time in the Nevada desert, I’m not entirely convinced there’s any meaningful difference between the so-called Beaver System and the Vegas Strip. Gay or straight, everyone loves slot machines. -Alison Foreman

“Vegas in Space” is streaming free on Fandango at Home through Prime Video.