Dancing at the Blue Iguana
Not yet rated
Time Out saysThis bold, not to say foolhardy, strip club exposé aims to get under the skin of five women who doff their stuff at a suburban LA fleshpit. Radford enlisted his actresses in an experiment in improvised character construction, but the result is not so much a Short Cuts-style kaleidoscope, as the celluloid equivalent of a particle collider. Spanning a week or so in the women's lives, the result is over-burdened with incident and trauma, as each character vies for screen time, picking at some psychic scab or teetering on a brink, in rococo style. Hannah's Angel, a ditsy blonde dreaming of child adoption, flirts closest with cliché; Tilly's histrionic, downward-bound Jo supplies the bitterest material; Ayanna's underage, overconfident Jessie gets somewhat lost in the mix. Most interesting is Sandra Oh's Jasmine/Kathy, through whose liaison with a fellow poetry aficionado the film finally finds a glimpse of heart. Radford waves his camera around in sub-Steve Bochco fashion, torn between talk and tit, but fails to thread it all together.