Judging by the expensive cologne levels I encountered when I entered the Space Theatre, my mind wandered to the famous quote from gay icon Bette Davis in All About Eve: “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.”

San Franciscan native Dylan Adler’s one-man show, Haus of Dy-Lan (pronounced “Die-Larn, bitches”), is an autobiographical salad of comic monologue and song, where the base ingredient is outrageous humour mixed with sprinkles of poignancy.

Dylan Adler: Haus of Dylan. Photo © Claudio Raschella

Adler’s story begins at his school concert at the age of 12, where his musical talent and love of the spotlight sprang forth. Yet Adler’s naivety and sexual innocence at that age shielded him from an audience consisting of those laughing at him and with him in equal measure. It was not until a fedora-wearing Seth and his peers bullied him at school two years later that Adler realised the world could be an unsafe space.

Fortunately, home was a sanctuary. Blessed with a gay twin brother, a mother akin to Samantha in Sex and the City, a Japanese grandmother who taught him the piano and knew he was gay before he did, and a grandfather who could not speak a word of English but had a chaplain-like gift for physical comedy, Adler was surrounded by love.

The boy has grown into a well-adjusted, out-and-proud queer. He is a part-Asian top, which makes him a rarity in gay circles. Despite wetting the bed (or being a “night squirter”, if you convert enuresis into a superpower) and experiencing depression, Adler has survived and triumphed.

Dylan Adler: Haus of Dylan. Photo © Claudio Raschella

Sent on an LGBTIQA+ musical touring group in 2024 to the MAGA states to convert red voters to blue, Adler expected to be shot, only to encounter friendly gay miners and theatre-building lesbians in the heartland. He wrote a musical about soccer, although he thought yellow cards were a bit racist. His song Why Am I Still Fucked Up? was a raw, Lin-Manuel Miranda-like intervention with himself.

Success introduced Adler to life outside America, including a trip to Scotland, where the Japanese-Jewish boy embraced his Asian side to secure good (but wrong) seats with a Filipino woman who spoke “No Engrish”, and then to Japan, where he met new relatives and his immediate family illegally scattered his grandfather’s ashes at a Tokyo temple. It was here that Adler’s journey came full circle when he drunkenly messaged his tormentor, Seth, to ask why he had bullied him, to which Seth responded with an apologetic reply.

Yes, he has battled homophobia, racism and depression, but none of these battles define him. Adler is unashamedly himself, and that self is a multi-talented writer, musician and performer. Having insulted Trump on stage, he could soon find himself a refugee. If so, America’s loss would be Australia’s gain.

The Adelaide Cabaret Festival continues until 21 June.