Burlesque in London

Everything that’s old is new again. The eighties are back, and back with a Pat
Batemanesque vengeance. It’s only a matter of time until its Hammertime pants
and cool girls everywhere are rocking leather jackets and bicycle shorts.
Recently in London, I had the chance to witness an antique form of entertainment
that’s made a sweeping return across the cultural centers of the globe.

Burlesque had it’s hey day in the 1930’s and is traditionally a combination
of all or one of the following: singing, dancing, comedy, striptease and mime.
Today it’s possibly the definition of kitsch; but sexy, sometimes rude and always
with a sense of humor.

My introduction began at the Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club in the East End,
not all that far from Brick Lane. Like the name suggests in its original incarnation
it was functioning club for blue collar workers, mostly men. The catch is that the
only thing that’s changed is the patrons. The exteriors and interiors are authentically
dilapidated, where if the walls could speak they would tell tales of endless pints,
sing-alongs and knife fights. This makes the entertainment and passing time here,
for better or for worse, more authentic and surprisingly enjoyable.

The show here is hosted by the world’s smarmiest MC, punctuated by lounge music
and is exquisitely over the top. My favorite routine featured a papier mache UFO,
suspended jerking on a fishing line, lugubriously lit in biohazard green. The alien
surprises the plump, early twenties blonde and hypnotizes her with its deep voice
booming over the PA. It then proceeded to make her do its bidding. The rest
can be left up to your imagination, though it should be said that the alien
seemed to absolutely hate clothes.

Lounge Lover is a considerably more up market establishment, also in the East End.
It’s lit in luscious reds and yellows and decorated like the living room of a blind
nineteenth century sailor who has the luck to travel to every country in the world,
filling his home with gifts the locals had bestowed upon him. They were hosting
a series of evenings titled “The Ruby Slipper”, featuring a menu of antique cocktails
and a show guaranteed to surprise and pleasantly offend.

I found almost equal enjoyment in watching a siliconed and collagened woman
in her mid-thirties strip with a live python as I did in watching the reactions of some
of the female patrons to a stand up comedienne who was dressed literally as a vagina
and who’s act comprised mostly of novel ways to repeatedly utilize the word ‘cunt’.
Though the Ruby Slipper evenings are now over, one can be sure that Lounge Lover
will once again host burlesque in the near future.

If you are in town and are looking for something to do that’s a little bit different,
or you’re looking to find something in common with your grandmother, give burlesque
a go, you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how un-PC things were in the early twentieth century.