by Chris Feil
Much as we love it, isn’t Burlesque one of our least distinct recent original musicals? The genre is no stranger to borrowing tropes that have worked in the past and Burlesque is no exception - dreams of stardom, vague romance, putting on a show to save the barn. The real culprit here the film’s mishmash assemblage of tunes, populated with high peaks and easily ignored plains.
But I should shut up because really: who cares? It’s Cher, bitch!
And oft repeated quotables aside, the presence of a singing and dancing Cher on screen is a now rare delight that shouldn’t be taken for granted (soak up those Mamma Mia! 2 rays of sunshine this July, kids). Some are quick to forget that Cher is always in on the joke, or that her lack of pretension makes opulence where more self-serious performers would be trapped in chintziness...
With Cher in the spotlight, splitting the silly hairs of this confection turns you into one of those blowhards that remind you that it's not actually champagne if it wasn't crafted in that region of France.
Persona is key to selling what Burlesque is doing musically. Cher’s club owner Tess initially restricts the show to tracks by legends, rendering her ensemble of performers into anonymous dancing cyphers, even Kristen Bell’s supposed star player. Tess is the closest musical authorial voice for us to grasp to despite seldom taking the stage, and perhaps it’s appropriate considering the star wattage at play. When Cher takes to the empty, smoky stage for “You Haven’t Seen the Last of Me”, the character arc and our perceptions of the artist become enmeshed to make the narrative go down all the more smoothly. As if Cher rocking a Diane Warren ballad didn’t already have the power to unseat despots.
But the film is also beholden to recent musical successes like Chicago and Moulin Rouge!, which themselves rely on a history of not only burlesque and musical theatre, but vaudeville and era-specific musical stylings. The influences here muddy the musical waters for a musical that feels half successful, and clumsy on its way to catchy. With so much less Cher than we bargained for on the soundtrack, it becomes a bit of a scattershot sound in search of a guiding voice.
It takes the emergence of Christina Aguilera’s Ali to cement the film’s musical identity into the sky high frenetic energy of contemporary pop R&B when she finally brandishes her vocals. Ali doesn’t just transform the club for narrative purpose but also provides a clarity of ideas for the film to tunnel its original songs through to more sturdy results. It’s Aguilera’s brand they lean into, instantly transposable from her “Back to Basics” era glam like a B-side concept visual album.
The spaces between Burlesque’s two divas using their charisma to maximum capacity may be a mixed bag, and one we’re willing to forgive. But when they get to let loose and take the reins of the film’s identity, the musical takes shape.
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