DANCING AT THE BLUE IGUANA
DVD region 2. Network.

Hollywood has long been fascinated with strippers, though the films examining their lives are usually entirely predictable exercises in thinly veiled (or quite blatant) moralising, suggesting that anyone who undresses on stage (or makes porn, or works in any other part of the sex industry) must be some sort of victim to be pitied – while at the same time filling the screen with more nudity than you’d find in most mainstream films. Dancing at the Blue Iguana manages to both indulge and escape these clichéd and false stereotypes within a film that is more interesting than enjoyable.

The film is based around improvisations from the cast – which is admirable, except that clearly all the performers are taking their characters from the stereotypes created in other films. So we have the sweet but flaky hippy stoner, the angry and streetwise veteran (who is also a dominatrix and drug dealer, and who turns out to be pregnant), the eager-to-please newcomer who ends up with an abusive boyfriend, the jaded old hand, the burned out porn star who guests as a feature dancer and the sensitive poet who struggles to combine her private life with work. They’re all characters that we’ve seen before, and while I’m sure the cast did their ‘research’, I can tell you that – having known several strippers in my time – that the reality is far less clichéd.

The film also crowbars in a highly unlikely sub-plot about a Russian hitman who becomes fixated on Darryl Hannah’s character, severely damaging any claims the film might have towards socio-realism, and manages to introduce other plotlines that never really develop – the suggestion of an incestuous relationship, Sandra Oh’s difficulties with a new boyfriend, Hannah’s attempt to foster a child… all these plotlines just fizzle out. There are some amusing moments – the scene with Jennifer Tilly’s slave is quite funny – but on the whole, the film is too tied up with being a warts ‘n’ all, somewhat disapproving look at the world of LA strip clubs to develop any sort of plot.

Where it does excel is with the performances, which are on the whole excellent. Tilly, Hannah, Oh, Charlotte Ayanna and the rest of the cast do a good job at presenting an acting masterclass, but what works as improv doesn’t necessarily translate into a strong story, and Michael Radford, while making a good looking film, has failed to string together these individually created characters into a strong story. At two hours long, it also feels overlong – I’d say at least 40 minutes (and a couple of characters) could’ve been trimmed.

If you want to see Hollywood actresses dancing topless, this might be the film for you; but many viewers might find it a little too slow and wannabe-worthy for their tastes. It’s by no means a bad film, but has little to offer in terms of entertainment or insight, in the end failing to work either as serious drama or softcore erotica.

DAVID FLINT

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