It started with the chatter of people looking for an escape through laughter, but it ended with new friends coming together as a community — all because of a grown man in a bright pink wig.
Gianmarco Soresi, a New York-based comedian and internet personality best known for his stand-up and podcasts, performed Sunday, Sept. 21, at Brewsky’s in Hattiesburg as part of his “Drama King Tour.”
Soresi’s audience largely consisted of younger people — those who identify as LGBTQ+, theater kids or children of divorce — a demographic he is well aware of and often caters his routines to.
On the “Good One Show” podcast, Soresi said: “I think my audience, like, it’s definitely very queer. A lot of theater kids. Children of divorce, I’m sure. If I were to, like, do a stereotype of it, it would be, like, someone in their early 20s who identifies as neurodivergent and has a cane, and you’re not sure if it’s for aesthetic purposes. And I love that!”
Because he is based in New York, Soresi doesn’t often perform in the South. As a child of divorce and a theater kid himself, he uses his own experiences to craft jokes that resonate with his fan base. Though he isn’t part of the LGBTQ+ community, he is known for having a large following of queer individuals.
That night, Soresi created a sense of community through his comedy. Standing on the brightly lit stage, he looked out at the buzzing crowd, waiting for the next joke. A neon pink wig sat askew on his head — borrowed from an off-duty drag queen in the audience.
The darkly lit bar was lined with chairs and filled with people talking among themselves. As the clock struck 8 p.m., the crowd quieted, looking to the stage in anticipation. But no one appeared. Minutes passed, and the stage remained empty. People began to look around, murmuring in quiet confusion.
“I definitely think that the air got a little tense whenever things were running late,” said Evie French, a USM English education major and Spanish minor who attended the show with friends. “We were kind of just waiting for Gianmarco.”
At 8:30 p.m., a figure finally emerged: Ty Colgate, another New York-based comedian and the night’s opening act. French attributed the delay to technical difficulties and the smaller crew working backstage.
Colgate started the night with light crowd work, joking that despite his last name, he wasn’t related to the toothpaste brand — nor did he use it. He quipped about how future generations will want to marry robots and how marriage will strictly be between a “they” and a “them.”
Finally, Soresi took the stage, launching into a bit about Bad Bunny refusing to perform in the United States for fear of fans being arrested due to political issues. He connected it to his own tour, saying he shared similar fears about performing in the South with such a large queer-based audience.
Soresi stayed on stage for over an hour, telling joke after joke with his signature dramatic flair and sharp humor. He covered everything from AI and politics to fighting assumptions that he is gay and being reprimanded for taking off his shirt during spin class. His set also included crowd work — including a bit with a dog groomer in the front row and, of course, his monumental moment with the pink wig.
“It was so nice to hear jokes about the queer community — and at the expense of the queer community — that were done in a respectful way,” French said.
At one point, while discussing his previous interactions with drag queens and the fact that he doesn’t have a drag name, he was interrupted by an audience member shouting out a suggestion that stopped him mid-set. Soresi, looking stunned, repeated the offered name to the crowd’s delight.
“Thanks,” he said, pausing as the audience laughed. “Hattiesburg has agreed that my drag name is Transgender Wendy!” The pink wig slipped onto his head, strands of brown hair peeking through. He enunciated the name loudly into the microphone, his words echoing through the room. “That’s going to go over really well in New York City,” he added with a smirk.
A comedian’s job is to make people laugh, but many also bring people together through shared laughter. Soresi often bases jokes on society and current world events, weaving in personal storytelling and dark humor. With his theatrical personality and flair for the dramatic, he attracts diverse audiences.
“I loved that he gave people from a variety of communities a place to safely gather. It was just a really comfortable environment,” said Carlee Carter, a junior social work major at the University of Southern Mississippi. “Even though I’m not normally a part of some of those communities.”
Soresi has become a “straight gay icon in the making.” Despite not identifying as LGBTQ+, he has become a source of light and support for many younger queer fans — especially in the South, where attending a publicly labeled queer event can still feel unsafe. He brings together communities that might not otherwise meet and provides a safe space for those still in the closet.
“I’m really glad that there was that sample of respectful comedy brought to the South,” French said. “That shows that — and I say this in air quotes — it’s not all ‘taboo,’ and you ‘can joke about stuff.’ You can joke about things. Not all jokes about any sort of minority are barred off. You can tell those jokes, you can be respectful, and queer people are able to laugh at them.”
French said she noticed the diversity in the audience — and that even with such a varied crowd, there was never a moment of exclusion. Soresi poked fun at everybody, whether they were men, women, queer or straight, or even himself. His playful nature made it easy to laugh and brought the audience together.
“In conclusion,” Soresi declared near the end of the set. The audience’s laughter softened as he continued. “You’ve been very kind. I hope this is a fun gathering. I hope you meet some new friends here. That’d be cool. I’ll try to perform more in the South.”
The crowd whooped and hollered, clapping their hands in delight.
“I think people on the Coast, they don’t realize that even if it’s a red state, it might be more politically diverse than they imagine,” Soresi added.
As he walked offstage, the audience rose to their feet — turning to strangers and friends alike, basking in the shared amusement that still radiated through the room. Many lingered by the door, chatting with the opener and fellow audience members.
Soresi ended the night with intoxicating laughter, creating new friends out of strangers and uniting communities. Through comedy and quick wit, he gave the audience an unforgettable night of high spirits and lively humor. For a few hours, Brewsky’s transformed into a safe space — and an audience into a family.
