First and foremost, I would like to say that whoever spliced together should be sued for false advertising.

Dancing at the Blue Iguana Trailer

Unlike Striptease, this movie is a total. fucking. downer.

I wasn’t even DRUNK whilst watching Sandra Oh be the megababe that she is yet still I struggle to jog my memory for a moment that isn’t making strippers look like sad and destitute dregs of Los Angeles.

Things to which I can relate:

•   Fucking up my mascara because the high and drunk dancers are getting into scraps with one another in the dressing room before the  night even starts.
•   Being recognized as a stripper, then as someone who goes to poetry readings in the same day, at the same venue.
•   Sitting in the back of the club scribbling in my notebook and not wanting to tell anyone what you’re writing about, as it’s probably severely disparaging remarks about the people who employ you.
•   Asking co-workers to check out my asshole. Because, as my naked readers will know, in a friendship between strippers there are no boundaries

Things to which I failed to relate:

•   Being given a rose by my manager at the beginning of the night, ‘just because.’
•   Seeing a hot lesbian at the tipping rail, and going up to her to caress her face. THIS IS COMPLETELY PREPOSTEROUS FOR TWO MAIN REASONS: 

1. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hot lesbian at the tipping rail. At least not one who actually tips.
2. if there is a lesbian patron, I run for the fucking hills. Seeing my kin at the club totally fucks with my straight-for-pay ethos. I get nervous, forget how to flirt and most importantly how to HUSTLE. I just don’t like hustling women. I like them too much.

Ultimately, what is fantastic about this movie is watching Jennifer Tilly say,
“My baby is going to sell drugs to your baby on the playground”

And, of course, watching Sandra Oh do just about anything. Of course, I’m completely biased. I could watch her open a can of soup. She’s mesmerizing.