Meanwhile, the non-dancing strippers are usually sitting near the bar chatting with each other while wearing bikinis or less, or sliding across the laps of the various patrons. In real strip clubs (in case you need the education), the outfits generally stay on for all of sixty seconds, and the dances are choreographed for maximum viewage of the important naughty bits, accompanied by lots of writhing and leg spreading. Hollywood has a vehement love-hate relationship with strip joints: they love the opportunity to parade women’s bodies around with impunity, but hate the frank and sometimes unsexy fact of constant nudity. Interesting business plan.Īctually, as Lohan continues to walk very slowly about in her nightie and occasionally squat down and stand up as if she can’t decide whether or not to poop, it’s worth having a brief discursion on this particular genus of movie strip club. Apparently, this is the kind of strip club where the dancer on stage stays clothed, and the cocktail waitresses in the crowd wander about naked. We get obligatory shots of the unsmiling patrons (would you be happy if this was the ‘dancing’ you were treated to?), which also feature obligatory boobs from beheaded extras working the crowd. I’ve posted this on the NBoard before, but it’s worth posting again- an incisive analysis of Big-Name-Star"Stripping" in movies, from the Jabootu review of I Know Who Killed Me:
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