A Night with The Sophisticates
It is
June 29th at the Metropolitan Room, 11:30 pm. I walk in from the
heat of the city hoping for sweet A/C relief, but find none. I give Bastard
Keith and Madame Rosebud big sweaty hugs, happy to be here at their production
of The Sophisticates. They tell me that this is the first time there’s been
stripping at the Metropolitan Room. The Asian family I share a table with does
not exactly look like a bunch of burlesque aficionados. I probe them a little
bit, asking them what brings them out to the show tonight. They have a living
social deal. They’ve never seen burlesque before, and as one of the men in the
family tells me, he “doesn’t know what to expect.”
“Boobs,”
I answer, nodding. “Boobs.”
“Oh,”
he says, his expression barely faltering. There is a pause. “Maybe I should be
sitting in that seat,” gesturing to
the chair which faces the stage.
“That’s
the spirit!” I laugh. “Just go with it.”
I
have to take the advice myself. I can’t help but think, for $30 admission and a
two-drink minimum, I should have my own personal fan in front of me. I should
have my own personal human fanner. I set that idea aside and drink my $15
bellini instead. Looking around, I would say that the room is about 2/3 full.
The VIP seats, which go for a whopping $115 per person, are maybe 1/3 full. I
am hopeful that tonight’s performers might be getting compensation that is on
par with the amount of labor, art, preparation, and presentation that they put
into their acts, and I am glad if they are.
Luckily
for this family, for me, and for everyone else who is here to enjoy the show
tonight, Bastard Keith does a phenomenal job keeping the show running smoothly.
I’ve said time and time again that the job of the host is utterly vital –
tonight is evidence of that. Before I get into a rundown of the night’s
delicious line-up of performers, I want to point out that the host is a
performer, too. The difference is that his/her role is the most dynamic, as it
depends on a sort of dialogue between the audience and the host. This dialogue
is both spoken and unspoken, and is created on a moment-to-moment basis. The
quickness, charisma, and resiliency that this role requires is no laughing
matter. I have seen many hosts’ jokes fall flat to the floor, many audiences
unengaged, and the result is a show that is missing the kind of satisfying
energy that a show can have, granted
that all other elements are intact. I will include some detailed bits of
entertainment which Bastard Keith dishes out throughout the show, to illustrate
some - sometimes surprising - examples of how the host’s role can be performed
smoothly and effectively at a burlesque show.
The
venue, located on West 22nd street, is literally located between the
charmingly grungier, more casual venues downtown, where burlesque can usually
be found, and the uptown venues which feature the more expensive Broadway and
off-Broadway entertainment. Remember that burlesque is theatre, as Bonnie Dunn
articulated during our interview. While I still think that $30 + a two-drink
minimum is pushing it, I think that burlesque performers certainly deserve a
stake in middle price range entertainment. Though the stage is a bit small, and
the room is initially hot as hell, the venue and the paying customers are on
par with the goal of bringing burlesque “up higher” into the realm of
acceptable theatre entertainment.
After
a charming and rather physically-demanding rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “I’m
Your Man” Bastard Keith tells the audience that this is “The first time there’s
going to be tits at the Metropolitan Room.” He continues on with his lesson on
how to behave at a burlesque show, or “burletiquette,” as he calls it, which
essentially gives the audience permission to let their inner construction
worker come to the surface. Without
further ado, he introduces the first performer to the little stage – “the girl
who fell to earth” and the co-producer of tonight’s show, Madame Rosebud.
It’s
sort of hard for me to describe the persona Rosebud has on during this first
act – pretty as a picture is too cliché, while a piece-by-piece description is
banal. She was so pretty that I hesitated to hug her for fear of wrinkling or
smudging some of the perfect. Her act is flirty and sensuous, slow and
deliberate over the course of two classical jazz numbers: Her eyes are acute and darkly-outlined beneath
a 1940s-inspired face net veil. The eyes are an important ingredient to any
successful burlesque act, so as not to conjure up the infamous image of the
dead-eyed stripper. Another element which Rosebud utilizes is the simple but
often-overlooked trick of flirting with ones clothes throughout the disrobe – Rosebud
runs her closed fist up and down her thigh-high, licks the bottom of her shoe, and uses her face
net to cover her breasts before revealing herself to the audience. The act is a
neo-classic piece which speaks to burlesque’s intertwining history with that of
the pin-up. And man is it easy on the eyes.
After
stage kitten Stella Chuu picks up the “stripper droppings”, Maine Attraction
hits the stage with another neo-classic piece. She moves well to the tune of “Minnie
the Moocher,” playfully inviting the audience to sing along. Her socialite
attire, complete with a stunning black gown and elbow-length gloves, is belied
by her gratuitous bumps and grinds. This reminds me of burlesque’s early days
in the States, where performers frequently parodied the well-to-do woman with
her well-to-do ways, thus making a transgressive statement about the act of “putting
on” class and high-society femininity. Maine Attraction closes the act by
unzipping her purse with her teeth, pulling out a boa made of money.
Peekaboo
Pointe comes out in a long, red, glittering dress and a face that reads, “I’ll
eat you up if you come within two feet of me.” With her soft blonde curls and
big eyes, she looks like Lili St. Cyr reincarnated, except with better body
tone. She strips out of her multi-piece dress ensemble, shaking it hotter than
the sun that day. Her movements are well-choreographed to the music, and when
she finally busts into her tassel twirling, this small audience loses it.
BB
Heart sets out to captivate us right away, coming onto the stage and immediately
dropping her robe to reveal – well, just about everything. Wearing only a
blonde, tightly curled wig, and pasties on her lady parts, BB goes into a mime
strip that’s nothing short of ingenious. I am always deeply impressed by her
artistic creativity and commitment to her persona on the stage. She “takes off”
her pretend bra, thigh highs, and gloves with real believability in her
movements. Adorably, Stella Chuu runs about the stage after the act, picking up
the imaginary stripper droppings which BB Heart did not leave behind.
After
a brief intermission which features a silly yet engaging acting competition
between three of the ladies from the audience, Maine Attraction hits the stage for
her second act. She starts out in the audience, weaving through and flirting
with spectators in her exotic, Amazon-like garb. As a dancer, she is both agile
and energetic. Though Bastard Keith had passed along the message that Maine
Attraction is “not gay today”, she
targets in on a clearly unexpecting woman in the audience, touching and
flirting with her before suddenly inverting herself right onto the woman’s lap.
I am going to let your imagination draw a picture of what this looks like. The
woman looks, well, less than stoked about this present in her face; but she
plays along as others in the crowd look on with laughter and surprise.
“Who’s
queer in the audience tonight?” asks Bastard Keith. No response. “We have a
hetero audience here. I guess I shouldn’t do my usual thing of draping my taint
on an audience member. Really, no one is queer?” One person raises both hands
and gives a cheer. “We have one queer person in the audience tonight,” says
Bastard Keith, turning to me. He smiles, “How did I know you were queer? Was it
the Mohawk and punk suspenders?” He turns to a man seated front and center. “I
told Rosebud I would keep it classy… Oh, it’s okay to tea bag this gentleman
here?” The audience is exploding with laughter. The victim, er, scarific-ee,
er, however you want to think about this man, goes along with it. He knows it
is just play. He even feeds into the back-and-forth, perverse sort of banter
going on. His girlfriend finds this all wildly funny. “I’ve just opened up a
big can of worms for you both,” says our host, perhaps only half in jest.
Peekboo
Pointe returns to the stage in a stunning dress that’s made entirely of
rainbow-colored beads, complemented by a peacock-feather boa. She’s making love
to us right from the beginning, making every move with sensuous attention. The
spectators respond with hearty “woos” and “ows” and “yeeaaahs.” She shakes it
so hard that her beads move at speeds too fast for the human eye to keep up
with. Peekaboo gives us more than a pretty girl in a cool costume; she is
playful, theatrical, and, judging from the audience’s response, truly fun to
watch in action.
Bastard
Keith draws our attention to the little tidbit of clothing which all the girls
have in common tonight: the pastie. These small, plain, bejeweled or tasseled
accouterments are well-known by anyone who has been to a burlesque show or two –
they are so ubiquitous on the burlesque stage that they have become symbolic of
this art form which straddles the spectrum of entertainment somewhere between commercial
stripping and that ambiguous category called dance performance[1]. Bastard
Keith remarks that the pastie is the only thing which allows the Metropolitan
Room to keep its liquor license. Imagine that – a little piece of material which
allows booze and boobs to be in the room together! You would think that bare nipples
are actually toxic when exposed (apparently they are just figuratively toxic to
the order of society.) Moreover, the pastie defines the difference between public
decency and – gasp – indecency, for
the girls are not quite nude enough
to cause mass chaos. I’ll close that thought with a big giant question mark[2].
Back to the BB. Her great big blue fans
contrast with her bright red under things, which we get the occasional glimpse
of as she skillfully works her fans up, down, and all around her body, moving
to the rhythm of an Italian number. As she disappears and then reemerges from
behind the fans, her enthusiastic smiles are suddenly punctuated by big,
audible sobs. She quickly returns to normal. The song switches to an upbeat
tango, with BB Heart’s movements and gestures matching. After the striptease is
complete, I hear one of the women at my table say, “She’s my favorite.”
Closing
out the acts for the evening is Madame Rosebud, who has brought something quite
different to the stage in comparison with her first act. Rather than starting
out with a leisurely, classic flare, she is immediately moving in ways that are
quicker, edgier, and more commanding, making it impossible to look away. She
begins the strip very early on, her movements and facial gestures matching the
tone of “Rock Me All Night Long.” The crowd gives an “ohhh” as she slaps her
glove on one of the tables, stripping down to reveal a black lacy one-piece
undergarment. She’s working the crowd, sticking boobs in faces, spitting on the
carpet, seamlessly working her way out of her clothes.
Did
these four ladies give us a show! I have to say that the price with drinks was
a little steep, but all in all the evening was fun, sexy, intimate, and
hilarious. When all is said and done, Bastard Keith commends the Metropolitan
Room for “taking a huge risk” in allowing its first-ever burlesque show to take
place tonight. And may I just add: I love my job. When I asked the man sitting
across from me what he thought, he answered, in a way that felt oddly and
indirectly rewarding, “I liked it. It was surprisingly artistic. I will be
coming to more shows like this.” As the audience filed out, people from both
the VIP and general admission seats approached Bastard Keith, genuinely
thankful and thoroughly entertained. The moral of tonight’s story is, if it’s
produced by Bastard Keith and Rosebud, dish out a couple bucks and experience a
taste of New York City burlesque. You won’t be disappointed.
[1] Burlesque’s
face and place in the entertainment industry is a whole other topic in itself, one
that divides both spectators and performers. This is, not surprisingly, also a
touchy subject, but it is one that I intend to deal with later on in my
project.
[2] I
am looking to learn more about the history and psychology behind the pastie.
No comments:
Post a Comment