And God Created Woman

Movies: Crazy Horse

The documentary Crazy Horse, about the upscale cabaret in Paris, felt a bit schizophrenic to me. It vacillates between genuinely erotic and breathtakingly dull. Not to sound prurient, but the scenes that feature dance numbers/stripteases--very artistically done by extremely talented women--are so beautiful and revel so joyously in the wonder that is the female form, that the rest of the movie (showing the backstage preparations and arguments over things like costumes and lighting) is downright boring in comparison.


Director Frederick Wiseman fails to give the audience some kind of narrative--anything, really, to give us a reason (beyond T&A) to watch this movie. Most documentaries aim to capture their subject(s) in a series of candid moments in order to make it obvious that we are not watching something scripted. However, even documentaries with the most mundane or obscure subjects are typically edited in such a way to give the audience something to grasp on to. Think of the rivalry between Steve Wiebe and Billy Mitchell in The King of Kong. It's a movie about Donkey Kong champions--an absurdly specific and silly subject--and yet, dammit, you want that jerk Billy Mitchell to get his just desserts! There is a clear hero and villain in that film, and it gives the audience someone to root for and someone to root against.

Some documentaries don't have a hero or a villain, or even a complex narrative, and yet still manage to fascinate the viewer. The documentary Hell House, about Christian "haunted houses" that are created to teach locals about sin and hell, manages to maintain a pretty neutral stance despite its potentially controversial subject. But because the director picked such a fascinating topic and all the people interviewed are articulate, funny, and interesting, Hell House is very compelling despite its simple narrative.

Sadly, Crazy Horse blows its potential to be an interesting film. It relies heavily on featuring nude dance numbers (which, to be fair, are pretty amazing) and slacks on telling any kind of story. The director has a tendency to focus on the most annoying, motormouthed behind-the-scenes people, such as the artistic director  and costume designer who both seem to be able to talk nonstop for hours at a time while saying absolutely nothing of importance. I would rather have heard from the dancers themselves--who, based on what we see in this documentary, are treated as little more than legs, boobs, and booties that need to fit a particular "look", despite the fact that these body parts are attached to extraordinarily talented women who are less strippers and more professional dancers.

The feminist in me saw Crazy Horse as fertile ground for discussion of mainstream views of female beauty, bodies, sexuality, and empowerment. The movie-goer in me just wanted some kind of plot device to keep me from falling asleep. Sadly, with this film, we get neither.

4 stars for the dance sequences
2.5 stars for everything else