Friday, December 03, 2010
Burlesque is the Antin-dote to The Winter Blahs
(image via 80millionmoviesfree)
Friends, your humble Felt Up blogette finally saw Burlesque last night, and despite all the bad reviews (mainly comparing it unfavorably with Showgirls, Chicago, and Cabaret), I can honestly say that it was a festive delight, especially since there was a loud, drunken group of middle-aged Latinas behind us who hooted and hollered in Spanish throughout the spectacle (especially at a brief glimpse of a male naked bottom) and the rest of the audience applauded the musical numbers and we all just generally had a gay ole time. Of course it's not as ridonkulous as Showgirls--NOTHING WILL EVER BE AS RIDONKULOUS AS SHOWGIRLS!--or as awesome as Cabaret or Chicago (which was almost ruined by Renee Zellweger's pinchy-faced weirdness, anyway)--but it does have CHER.
Whoever did the costumes on this thing did a pretty damn good job, even though I thought there should be at least one pair of pasties in a movie called Burlesque. If they give out a special Oscar for Best Use of Retro Underpants in a Musical, this movie should win it, hands down.
So, if you want some escapist good times featuring lots of frilly underbottoms, see-through mesh brassieres, not one but two Cher showcase lollapalooza musical numbers, and the great Stanley Tucci reprising his role from The Devil Wears Prada, then Burlesque is for you, especially after a few cocktails. (I must note, however, the CRIMINAL underuse of Dame Alan Cumming--I can only imagine there is a cutting room floor filled with some amazing scenes of his. Surely they could have lopped off one or two of the 5,000 Christina Aquilera-does-Etta-James numbers? Sigh...)
When the credits rolled, I was delighted to see that Steve Antin was the director. Steve Antin was the star of The Last American Virgin and was the bad guy in Goonies and used to date power gay David Geffen. I find his entire family entirely FASCINATING. His brother is Jonathan Antin, late of the greatest, most hilariously insane reality show ever, "Blow Out" (you know, the one about the uber-straight LA hairdresser, Jonathan, who sobbed uncontrollably when his line of hair products, Jonathan Product, got a bar code?) and his sister is Robin Antin, founder of The Pussycat Dolls, which before it became the harbinger of the muscical Apocalypse was a burlesque troupe (and yet she is not listed as a "consultant" on Burlesque, which is either an admirable rejection of Hollywood nepotism or proof of the long-standing feud I just made up in my head that exists between Steve and Robin). These three will stop at nothing as they scratch and claw their way to the D-List, and I applaud them for it!
Jonathan, Steve, and Robin Antin!
(image via acesshowbiz)
Most interesting of all? Just look at what Steve has done to his face over the years:
Last American Virgin heyday:
(image via NNDB)
(image via zimbio)
He doesn't look bad, or old--he just doesn't look particularly human; it's a little too Madame Tussaud's around the edges for my taste. But who am I to judge? He is part of America's royal family of second-tier entertainment, for god's sake! Long live the Antins!