WEDNESDAY, MARCH 21: Leslie Hall is a thick-trunked Midwestern R&B diva famous for her collection of over 150 gem-and-rhinestone-decorated sweaters. The “gem sweaterologist” also posts videos of dance routines on her website, featuring similarly husky friends in glittery gold spandex unitards designed by Hall’s mother. Tonight, all fans arriving in “bedazzled” sweaters receive preferential treatment and are led to the front of the auditorium. Mostly men, they erupt as Hall lumbers on stage, wearing her trademark oversized glasses, blue eye-shadow, giant ‘80s bouffant, headset, and a jumpsuit with arm tassles that sweep the floor. During her hour-long set she has five costume changes. Behind Hall, screens show ‘80s footage of kittens, creepy dolls, and children practicing mouth-to-mouth on resuscitation dummies. Hall squeals “Zombie Killer” before a montage of ultra-gory Romero footage: “Our minds are delicious but there’s never enough to eat!” Despite her size, Hall can move, mixing b-boy with Madonna, and midway though each song she’s dripping, so puffed-out she can barely pronounce her words (a stage manager hands her bottles of water). It’s endearing. Hall requires rest stops, so there’s a short ballet act by two cowboys, and later a number by Harvey Sid Fisher, famous for his self-released tape of Astrology Songs. Hall joins Fisher for a touching “Islands in the Stream” duet. Outdoing herself, Hall is then harnessed to 2x4s held by crowd volunteers, spinning and somersaulting, suspended in the air. She ends the evening with “Gold Pants Forever,” accompanied by a dance troupe of eight bedazzled nine-year-old girls, the steps intricately choreographed and flawlessly executed. Bedazzling. (DK)