Longtime New York art-scene denizen Beth B has made a documentary that focuses on this city’s underground burlesque scene. Those who have a vague notion of burlesque as a cute, retro means of titillation are liable to get a shock.
The performers cover a range of body types and highly fluid gender identities. Only a couple, such as the lushly full-bodied Dirty Martini and Bambi the Mermaid (seen walking the streets clad in three strategically placed shells and some body glitter), have routines that evoke any memories of someone like Gypsy Rose Lee. The others are basically performance art, from the routine by the World Famous Bob that uses dollar bills in unusual ways to comment on American consumerism, to Rose Wood’s Hasidic rabbi act.
The filmmaking style is practically nonexistent: interviews and static shots of the performers onstage. They are thoughtful and often funny, especially Mat Fraser, a British man whose arms were damaged by Thalidomide, and Julia Atlas Muz, the off-stage partner with whom he often performs. One number close to the end — a hideously violent and utterly anti-erotic routine by Rose Wood called “Serial Killer” — is a bizarre choice for a film that’s as chirpily inspirational as an Oprah show, only with naked guests.