WHAT A DRAG: Dame Edna turns purple into comedy gold in Boston

At the end of our interview, Dame Edna – who was on the phone from Florida – shifted her attention to me. And as anyone who’s been plucked from her audience and then turned into the target of her laser wit knows, that rarely ends well.

Dame Edna: Alex, do you have a nice place in Watertown?

Alex: (warily) Yes.

Dame Edna: What kind of home is it?

Alex: It’s the upper floor of a two-family.

Dame Edna: Do you have a view?

Alex: Yes, a little bit of a view.

Dame Edna: Well, all those years of hard work are paying off. I want you to know I respect you because of what you’ve achieved.

Yes, I was belittled by Dame Edna, and – like most of the people who have come out on the losing end of a conversation with her – I couldn’t be happier.

Dame Edna Everage, self-described superstar housewife, is back, sharing her “experience, strength and wisdom” with her “American possums,” as she brings her new show, “My First Last Tour,” to the Colonial Theatre in Boston, April 16-19.

Expect her loyal fan base to come out in force, irresistibly drawn to her like planets caught in the orbit of a radiant sun. Newcomers will likely experience shock and awe. She’s a star and she knows it, with a personality as big as her glittering glasses, an ego the size of her purple – she calls it “mauve” – hair. Armed with a passive-aggressive streak that she’s turned into comic gold, she’ll prove, once again, her knack for complimenting and insulting anyone in the same sentence.

Visually, she’s grand – a big woman with a big appetite for fashion, but no discernible taste. She dresses in shimmering frocks that would have made Bob Mackie blush. A reporter less kind than I might suggest she looks like a man in a dress.

But it’s not just her fashion taste that’s landed her on “The Tonight Show,” “Ally McBeal” and the Broadway stage. It’s also her wit, the cornerstone of her remarkable show. Onstage, she relies heavily on her interaction with audience members, who are often the butt of her best jokes. No wonder she can see patrons shrink in their seats as she turns her attention to row C, F or G.

“I look down, and I see people contorted in anxiety,” she says. “My job is to alleviate it. No one leaves the theater without a cathartic moment – would your readers know that word? It’s a catharsis that I produce. The people I’ve been speaking to, I invite later onto the stage, and you will see how happy they are. Happy, almost traumatized. So perhaps their appearance of happiness is just a reflex. It’s happiness at still being alive.”

Dame Edna admits that she’ll make adjustments to her show for the Boston audiences.

“Of course the people of Boston are amongst the best-educated,” said Edna. “So I won’t be talking down to them. But sometimes in some places in the Midwest, I talk a little more slowly. And I say the same thing more than once.”

These days, Dame Edna is aided by her daughter, Valmai, who’s “seriously dysfunctional,” she said. “She’s a sort of intern. Occasionally, she wanders on, trying to learn what I do, but failing to do so. Frankly, it’s a court order that’s put her there with me. She is delinquent and very, very disappointing. And I’m sorry in advance to the audience. She’s the Melissa (Rivers) to my Joan (Rivers). If I did the red carpet (interviews), she’d be there with me.”

If Dame Edna sounds callous, she’ll quickly point out that she loves to give and that her commitment to charity will be one of the pillars of her legacy.

“I’m always doing things for other people,” she says. “I’m much sought-after by many people, particularly urologists, because of my interest in the prostate. I’m president and treasurer of Friends of the Prostate. It’s my own charity. I’m building, in Florida, Prostate World, which is a urological adventure playground. It’s huge – enlarged, you might say. The entrance, strangely enough, is from the rear. There are bowling alleys. A chapel – you can get married in the prostate itself. There’s a pizzeria, a Hungry Jack. There’s a Cinnabon.”