Midgitte Bardot: A Drag Queen's Fight Against Dwarfism Prejudice
For most performers, attention is something they crave on stage. For Tamm Reynolds, the artist behind the drag persona Midgitte Bardot, unwanted attention is a constant reality. As a non-binary trans drag queen with dwarfism, Reynolds navigates a world where staring, filming, and intrusive questions are daily occurrences. "I would happily take you round Woolwich and you'd experience people staring and stopping to say things to me and filming me," Reynolds reveals.
From Spinal Surgery to Southbank Stage
Reynolds' new show, Shooting From Below, marks their return to performance after recovering from spinal surgery last year. The condition nearly left them paralysed from the waist down. "A lot of people with dwarfism have spinal issues," Reynolds explains with characteristic dark humour. "You lot are like dairy milk and we're condensed. I have a spine that kind of curves at the bottom which gives me a phenomenal ass, but it comes at a price."
The show, running at London's Southbank Centre, sees Midgitte justifying a dreadful act she's committed while confronting audience prejudices. "She's got an audience in a room and she's finally going to tell them exactly what she thinks of them," Reynolds says. "Because big people have done terrible things. People with dwarfism have been kept as slaves."
The Horrors of Street Harassment
Reynolds describes frequent street harassment that ranges from invasive questions to dangerous situations. "They'll ask if they can have sex with me, if it's possible. They'll ask me why I'm so small, was I born that way?" The performer adds that on trains, they become "very paranoid about people's phones because the angle they're held at is already on me anyway."
One particularly chilling incident from a book called Midgetism resonated deeply: a woman with dwarfism asked a man not to film her and was told, "I'm filming you because we send people like you to our group chat." Reynolds describes such interactions as "the horrors of the lived experience of being a freak. And I say freak with pride."
Historical Context and Contemporary Challenges
The performer discusses the "abominable" history of dwarfism in entertainment, citing examples like Princess Eugenie renting seven dwarves for her 25th birthday party. More disturbingly, Reynolds recounts an eastern European family of performers with dwarfism who were taken to Auschwitz. "They got taken out of the queue for the gas chamber because Joseph Mengele wanted to experiment on them. That's the absurd relationship people have with us - they're desperate to keep us at the same time as exclude us."
Today, performers with dwarfism face what Reynolds calls a "double bind" - they can get gigs, but often only if prepared to be humiliated. "The world of work is not accessible to us, but the world of performance is darkly accessible to us."
Reclaiming Power Through Performance
The name Midgitte Bardot itself represents a reclamation of power. "I know what word you're thinking about when you see me, so I'm going to say it for you," says Reynolds, who conceived the name while getting stoned with a friend. "But I'll say it with a French twist, because I'm classy."
Reynolds has developed strategies for confronting harassment directly. "If someone is staring, I'll ask, 'Do I know you? Are you staring at me?' And they'll always say, 'No.' And I'll go, 'OK, sorry - because you were.'" The performer believes this approach is crucial: "If abusers aren't called out, they keep doing it."
Personal Journey and Community Building
Now 32, Reynolds grew up in Cheltenham where they felt isolated as the only person in their family with dwarfism. They began writing a diary at age eight to process their experiences. "Everyone's growing bigger around me and I'm not, and I'm getting noticed in a different way and I don't know why."
After earning a first in creative writing at John Moores University in Liverpool, Reynolds discovered drag through friends and quickly gained local fame. They moved to London in 2021 to escape being "a bit too famous" in Liverpool, where they couldn't "get a cup of coffee without someone recognising me."
Reynolds' biggest hope for Shooting From Below is that other people with dwarfism will see it and help build a supportive community. "I'm always going to be the only one who looks like me every time. There's a constant loneliness. I want to make work where I can change that experience for myself. Let's fuck with people like they fuck with us."
