There
have been a number of documentaries on the subject of burlesque; the
combination of striptease and music hall entertainments that saw its
heyday in America of the early and mid- 20th century.
Director Leslie Zemeckis’ effort, Behind the Burly Q is one of the most
comprehensive of these. Zemeckis reveals not only what it was like to
have been one of those spangled visions that brought a gleam to the eye
of many a tired working man, but practically puts us in the seats of
those forbidden palaces of old by shining the spotlight on the other
acts that made up a burlesque show.
Zemeckis makes great use of an exhaustive amount of archival footage and
photography that naturally highlights the goddesses of bump ‘n grind,
while including the comedians, musicians and specialty acts that made up
the rest of the show, but have slipped away from much of the public
memory. The interviews with the stars of the burlesque stage like
strippers Tempest Storm, Kitty “Evangeline the Oyster Girl” West and
Dixie “The Marilyn Monroe of Burlesque” Evans, as well as relatives of
departed performers, like Chris Costello, daughter of comedian Lou
Costello (- of Abbott and Costello), Sean Rand, son of striptease
legend, Sally Rand, andare candid and amusing. Alan Alda supplies
humourous anecdotes about his father Robert’s beginnings as a
scatologically titled crooner who plied his trade between strip acts and
being himself a growing boy backstage amongst the jungle of pasties. Of
course, the primary focus of Behind the Burly Q is its ladies and their
stories, many hauntingly similar; of the unhappy home lives they escaped
enduring rape and other abuses to make their own way in what was then a
shocking, occasionally illegal career for a young woman.
If there is a problem with Behind the Burly Q it is that there is simply
too much to put in it. Zemeckis’ thorough research of the history of
burlesque and inclusion of the other performers tends to rush a lot of
the personal testimonies and leads to tangents that could make for
interesting chronicles in their own right. For example, fleeting
mentions of the marginalisation of Asian and African-American strippers
into their own small strata only piques the audience’s interest to know
their stories, as well. The result of trying to cram in as much
information as possible takes a good deal of the emotional punch out of
what could have been some moving insights from those on camera. For
all of Behind the Burly Q’s accounts of life in the convivial
working-class demimonde, I could’ve listened perfectly beguiled for
hours. I actually wanted to hear more of the performer’s recollections
of what they actually experienced from the stage and would have liked
their thoughts on the progression of the relatively wholesome burlesque
of their day that required art and talent to be successful, into the
soulless, grindhouse gynecological exams stripping is today. The
occasionally wonky pacing and arc is supported by the wealth of fun
clips of women who knew that ya gotta get a gimmick if ya wanted to get
applause, to paraphrase from the seminal stripper’s fantasy, Gypsy (–
the subject of that famous myth, Gypsy Rose Lee makes an appearance here
via the unloving memories of ladies who shared the stage with her.).
The devotion Zemeckis shows in these rare glimpses of this lost American
pastime is evident and she takes pains to get her audience as close to
that front row as possible. Her enthusiasm and respect for her subject
carries the day over whatever structural difficulties the film has.
Behind the Burly Q is a fun and affectionate look at a subject that
continues to fascinate generations.
~ The Lady Miz Diva
April 23rd, 2010
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