Midgitte Bardot: The Drag Queen Confronting Dwarfism Prejudice Through Performance
Most performers crave attention on stage, but Tamm Reynolds receives it constantly—even without the fishnets and push-up bra of their alter ego, Midgitte Bardot. "I also like having my bush and ass out," Reynolds adds with characteristic boldness. As a non-binary trans drag queen with dwarfism, Reynolds occupies a unique position in London's performance scene, using their art to challenge deep-seated prejudices and societal norms.
A Life of Constant Scrutiny
Meeting at Woolwich station in London, Reynolds immediately stands out, though they resist being defined solely by their physical characteristics. "I'm assuming you know what I look like," they text beforehand, acknowledging the unavoidable visibility. Yet Reynolds is far more than a spectacle; they are a formidable writing and performance talent. Three years ago, in Travis Alabanza's queer cabaret revue Sound of the Underground, Midgitte ascended a cherry-picker to perform "Hot Piss," wielding a jug of frothy yellow liquid in a climax that drew the loudest cheer ever heard at the Royal Court.
Returning Stronger After Spinal Surgery
Now, Midgitte returns to another prestigious venue, London's Southbank Centre, with Shooting From Below. This marks their first show since recovering from spinal surgery last year, following a near-miss with a condition that could have caused paralysis from the waist down. "A lot of people with dwarfism have spinal issues," Reynolds explains. "You lot are like dairy milk and we're condensed. I have a spine that curves at the bottom, giving me a phenomenal ass, but it comes at a price."
Radicalized by Daily Harassment
In their living room, Reynolds reflects on how their experiences have shaped them. "I've been radicalized by the existence I have and the way I'm treated," they say. "If I was somebody without dwarfism, I'd probably be quite normcore. Because deep down, I'm a grandpa. I like my crossword puzzles." A cushion with Danny De Vito's face sits on the sofa—Reynolds admires him as a "closet dwarf," part of a list that includes Elton John, Miriam Margolyes, Dawn French, and Elliott Page for their "dwarf energy."
Confronting Historical and Contemporary Objectification
Shooting From Below features Midgitte justifying a dreadful act she's committed, using the platform to address audiences directly. "Big people have done terrible things," Reynolds states. They highlight historical atrocities, such as people with dwarfism being kept as slaves, and modern incidents like Princess Eugenie renting seven dwarves for her 25th birthday party, where dancing required her permission. "There's still a culture of, we are objects," Reynolds asserts.
The Horrors of Street Harassment
Reynolds faces constant harassment when leaving home. "I would happily take you round Woolwich and you'd experience people staring and stopping to say things to me and filming me," they say. Intrusive questions about sex, family, and physical appearance are common, along with being filmed without consent. A case study in the book Midgetism resonated deeply, where a woman with dwarfism was told filming was for a group chat. Reynolds describes these interactions as "the horrors of the lived experience of being a freak. And I say freak with pride."
Performance as Empowerment
Performing as Midgitte allows Reynolds to reclaim control. The name itself repurposes an offensive slur with a "French twist" for class. Experiences of ableism become material for gags, like being rejected after a kiss because "I don't want to sleep with a dwarf." Reynolds embraces self-acceptance: "My younger self was desperate to fit in, but I know I'm special and so I might as well embrace that. I'm also queer, so that lends itself to deviant-ness."
Standing Up to Bullies
Reynolds advocates for confronting harassers directly. "If I had a kid like me, I don't think I would tell them to ignore the bullies, because it disempowers you," they explain. By asking starers if they know each other, Reynolds challenges the entitlement. They reject the notion that people with dwarfism are too vulnerable to defend themselves, suggesting abusers might fear the unknown. "What if I bit them, or exposed myself to them?" they muse.
Building Community Through Art
At 32, Reynolds hopes Shooting From Below will attract others with dwarfism to foster community. "I'm always going to be in someone else's building, on someone else's stage, and I will be the only one who looks like me every time," they note, describing a "constant loneliness." Their goal is to create work that transforms this experience: "Let's fuck with people like they fuck with us." The show runs at the Purcell Room, Southbank Centre, from 9-11 April, promising a provocative exploration of identity, prejudice, and resilience.
