Pretty Things

Liz Goldwyn's new documentary on burlesque is a facile account of the golden years of striptease. To give the director some credit, the interviews with the performers are fascinating. However, Goldwyn's contribution to the topic was disappointing. Her commentary and her performances are so pitiful and shallow it is hard to believe anyone gave her money to complete this documentary. Many of the strippers came from troubled backgrounds and went into stripping because they needed the money. Liz Goldwyn's point of view seems to typify upper-class privilege. One of the strippers reminiscences in the film about how one of the Astors gave her 20 dollars and asked her to ring him up sometime- an obvious sordid appeal for cheap sex. The stripper was naturally offended by his effrontery. I don't believe Goldwyn's depiction is any less exploitative and self-indulgent than Astor's crass attempt at attention and sexual thrill. Lastly I believe Goldwyn never was able to stay focused on the topic of the documentary. Instead I was left with the feeling that Goldwyn was exploring her own obsessions rather exploring the history of Burlesque in America.

This movie felt very "grad school" to me. Or even a therapy session. Goldwyn has a lot to learn as a documentarian. Why oh why did she feel the need to show herself so much? If she had only focused the camera on the actual dancers, then we would have gotten an even fuller picture of burlesque history. It would have also been really great to see more of a correlation between sexual and government politics of the era. The archival footage of these beautiful proud women was stunning. When the actual dancers spoke, I was amazed, especially by Zorita and her bluntness. When the film-maker spoke, I cringed. With every word she spoke I knew there was that much more time stolen from the dancers' spotlight. For Christ's sake, when this was filmed, the clock was ticking loudly for these poor women. Didn't Goldwyn understand the sense of urgency to tell their stories as thoroughly as possible? These women were so elderly, and a few died before the film even saw the light of day. Instead of an exploration into the full richness of their lives, we got Goldwyn's failed attempts to be sexy. The film wasn't all bad though. It articulated that pseudo-grace cannot be substituted for god-given grace, even when they wear the same clothes.

This is one of the most frustrating and infuriating viewing experiences I've had in years, and a real blown opportunity to do a comprehensive job telling the story of these burlesque queens. The problem is that Liz Goldwyn inserts herself into the story, and takes it over with her misguided attempts to do striptease, something that she has neither the looks nor the body for.

I mean, if you want to strip, it helps if you have actual curves. This woman needed to go on the all-ButterBurger diet for a month. But it's not her anorexic frame that's the problem here. It's her ego-tripping, wrongheaded approach to the subject that torpedoes this project. Despite having one of the Maysles as her cinematographer, she violates all the rules of documentary film-making, and misses the point time and again.

The interviews are great, and funny in spite of the filmmaker, who keeps trying to insert her third wave feminist rhetoric into their life stories. Whereas the strippers themselves are very matter-of-fact about their careers, Goldwyn keeps trying to tell them how they "owned their sexuality." When the women tell her about the raincoat crowd masturbating under newspapers while the dancers did their bump-and-grind, her reaction is priceless: "How dare they!," she says, adding, "That's not what it was about...It was about witticism...Empowerment." No, it was about women taking their clothes off and guys wanking to it. As one of the strippers says, "We were the poor man's brothel." If Goldwyn has a problem with guys beating off to strippers, she needn't worry that anyone will be masturbating to the striptease number she performs at the end of the film.

Zorita, a stripper who often used a snake in her act, has a lot of the best lines. Goldwyn keeps asking Zorita about her lesbianism. When she asks what use Zorita had for men, the response is classic: "A hairy chest and a limp joint. Who needs it?" At another point, when teaching the fan dance to the clueless filmmaker, Zorita tells her, "You're queer for asses." Anyway, there's some worthwhile stuff to be found here, but there could have been so much more if not for the overprivileged and undertalented Goldwyn and her lame, Women's Studies take on classic striptease.

Oh yeah -- she also loses points for using David Bowie's "Oh! You Pretty Things" as the theme song, instead of the Bo Diddley song.

And it would have been a fascinating and engrossing documentary, if only Ms Goldwyn stayed out of the picture! I understand this is a movie about her coming of age- she has a long way to go!- but these women were very interesting subjects on their own, and it just seems such a lost opportunity. Instead of all this footage of Goldwyn prancing around, singing - cringe!- and toying with her "sexuality" (not that I sense any) why not show more archival footage of Zorita and co and let us hear more of their stories? In any case, this is Liz Goldwyn's movie and she can do whatever she chooses, but I feel this would have been a really great film with more reality and less of Goldwyn fantasies.

1. Too much time spent showing these classic fantasy girls in their caftan and muu muu dotage. They should have been properly introduced, then given voice overs while showing much more old footage and stills. If I want to look at grannies, I'll go to Palm Springs.

2. Classic film student error: making the movie all about the interviewer and her opinions, instead of the subjects. LG has some dance moves, she has the stems, and she could pass for Capucine if she bothered to make an effort. Hint: make up, hair down to shoulder length, and chic clothes. But spare us the awkward rehearsals en pointe, the undergrad feminism, and the ending. And let's face it, without implants LG is out of her league here.

3. Great movie moment: Zorita hands LG a tiny G string and gives her a look that speaks volumes about what she really thinks.

4. Bottom line: less cheese, more cheesecake, please. BC