Places like the Burlesque Lounge—the prime location for Burlesque, the new musical starring Cher and Christina Aguilera—exist only in the movies. Only on screen would the logistics of such a place be remotely possible (both physically and economically). This fantasy location—a puffed-up cross between the nightclubs in Cabaret and Chicago—employs dozens of female and male dancers; a full band; a DJ; one waitress; one bartender; and Stanley Tucci as Sean, a gay combination of stage manager/hand holder to the owner. Said owner would be Cher, who is called Tess, the only performer in the place who sings her own numbers, dispenses hard-bitten showbiz maxims to her girls, fights off an ex-husband (Peter Gallagher) who keeps nagging her about finances AND finds time to act as seamstress for her flock, mending their torn stockings, feather boas, etc.
Everything in Burlesque is so familiar, so telegraphed, that the entire movie felt like déjà vu to me—it’s a pastiche of pastiche—a movie hall of mirrors with one image leading to another, going all the way back to the ’30s movies of Busby Berkeley, with Ruby Keeler going on stage an understudy and coming back off a star.
The comforting familiarity of the movie’s story, setting and that cast clearly marks Burlesque as Ours. After a long dry spell, that’s something worth celebrating—even if it’s half a loaf.
Read the whole review online at windycitytimes.com/gay/lesbian/news/ARTICLE.php?AID=29599.