Film Review: Dancing at the Blue Iguana (2000)
The 1996 film Striptease, for all its purported boldness, remains a prime example of Hollywood’s insidious habit of glamourising and sanitising the inherently sordid realities of the American entertainment industry’s underbelly. Its glossy portrayal of the strip club milieu, replete with improbable glamour and narrative neatness, ultimately served only to sweeten a profession steeped in exploitation and vulnerability. Four years later, Michael Radford’s 2000 drama Dancing at the Blue Iguana arrived as a stark, deliberate antidote to this cinematic fantasy. Eschewing Hollywood’s sugar-coated conventions entirely, Radford crafts an ensemble piece executed with an almost documentary-like, cinema verité intensity. The film plunges the viewer unflinchingly into the heartbreak, grinding misery, and profound personal dysfunction that constitute the daily reality for its protagonists, offering uncomfortable glimpse behind the neon curtain instead of titillation.
The titular Blue Iguana is a fictional, unglamorous strip club nestled within the sun-bleached anonymity of California’s San Fernando Valley. Its stage and backrooms become the crucible for the lives of five women, each dealing with their own desperate trajectories. Angel (Daryl Hannah), a seasoned performer whose childlike demeanour belies years on the circuit, clings to the fragile dream of motherhood, even fantasising about becoming a foster parent – a poignant yearning against the backdrop of her profession. Jo (Jennifer Tilly), initially projecting a brittle confidence, begins a terrifying psychological unraveling upon discovering her unexpected pregnancy. Jasmine (Sandra Oh), an aspiring poet whose intellectual aspirations sit uneasily alongside her economic necessity, entered the club partly to pay the bills but also, she believes, to explore the boundaries of her own creativity and identity – a justification increasingly strained by reality. Stormy (Sheila Kelley), an aging dancer haunted by a traumatic past she desperately seeks to escape, embodies the physical and emotional toll of longevity in the business. Finally, Jessie (Charlotte Ayanna), the youngest and most naively optimistic, arrived at the Blue Iguana under the delusion that stripping might be a stepping stone to Hollywood stardom.
Their individual struggles form the film’s grim tapestry, woven together by the fragile threads of their friendship and shared professional bonds – moments of respite that feel all the more precious for their rarity. Crucially, many of their deepest wounds are inflicted by men. Jessie finds herself trapped in a violently abusive relationship. Jasmine loses her initially supportive boyfriend, Dennis (Chris Hogan), a member of her literary circle, whose intellectual pretensions crumble when confronted with the visceral reality of her work; he cannot reconcile the woman he loves with the performer on stage. Stormy is forced to confront the demons of her past, personified by her menacing brother Sully (Elias Koteas), whose reappearance threatens to shatter her fragile present. Angel, meanwhile, becomes the unlikely object of infatuation for Sergei (Vladimir Mashkov), a Russian mob assassin who frequents the club while preparing for a hit, transforming into a secret admirer.
The relative obscurity of Dancing at the Blue Iguana remains somewhat perplexing, particularly given the pedigree of its British director, Michael Radford. By 2000, Radford was already highly respected for his masterful adaptations of Nineteen Eighty-Four (1984) and the Oscar-nominated Il Postino (1994). The casting, too, was undeniably notable: Daryl Hannah and Jennifer Tilly were established stars with decades of experience, while Sandra Oh, though not yet the global television icon she would become, possessed a compelling intensity. The film’s muted reception suggests a deeper discomfort within the critical and industry establishment. Its unflinching, realistic portrayal of the strip club world – a world uncomfortably proximate to the mainstream entertainment industry it services – was likely deemed too unsettling, too close to home for an industry that prefers to maintain the fiction of its own moral and operational separation from the adult entertainment sector. Hollywood, it seems, struggles to confront the uncomfortable parallels between its own machinery of desire and exploitation.
This very commitment to realism, however, constitutes the film’s greatest strength and its most significant flaw. Conceived initially by Sheila Kelley as a vehicle focused primarily on her character, the project underwent a radical transformation during preparation. Kelley and the cast engaged in intense improvisational workshops, delving deep into the psychology and physicality of their roles. Radford, profoundly impressed by the authenticity and depth uncovered, pivoted decisively towards an ensemble structure. Extraordinary efforts were made for verisimilitude: Daryl Hannah reportedly spent extensive time observing real strippers and underwent rigorous physical training to master the demanding choreography, efforts documented in a supplementary feature for the DVD release. The actresses, notably Hannah and Tilly – stars of significant stature and age uncommon for such exposure – bravely performed nude on camera. Yet, these scenes are deliberately devoid of eroticism; the camera lingers not on the body as object, but on the performer’s isolation, the mechanical nature of the act, and the palpable emotional cost. The initial shock of nudity quickly dissipates, forcing the viewer to confront the characters’ profound vulnerabilities and the seedy, oppressive environment that shapes their existence.
Unfortunately, this admirable dedication to authenticity and ensemble storytelling comes at a narrative cost. The film’s diffuse focus, while reflecting the chaotic reality of the characters’ lives, ultimately sacrifices a strong central narrative drive. The sheer number of character arcs, each demanding attention, leads to a sense of fragmentation. Consequently, the resolutions for several storylines feel frustratingly predictable and clichéd – a descent into grimness that rings hollow rather than earned, lacking the nuanced development required to make the tragedies resonate deeply. Furthermore, the film’s deliberate, almost languid pacing, coupled with its full two-hour runtime, presents a significant hurdle for contemporary audiences accustomed to faster cuts and relentless narrative propulsion. In an era of fractured attention spans, the film’s demand for sustained, patient engagement with its bleak world may prove too great a barrier for many.
At the end, Dancing at the Blue Iguana undeniably stumbles in its execution, failing to fully realise the ambitious potential of its premise. Its structural weaknesses, predictable tragic turns, and challenging pace prevent it from achieving the enduring classic status its director’s reputation might have suggested. Yet, to dismiss it as merely a curiosity in the filmographies of Daryl Hannah, Jennifer Tilly, or Sandra Oh would be a profound mistake. Radford’s film stands as a courageous, uncompromising, and deeply humanistic effort to strip away Hollywood’s gauzy veil and expose the raw, often painful, truths of a marginalised existence.
RATING: 5/10 (++)
Blog in Croatian https://draxblog.com
Blog in English https://draxreview.wordpress.com/
InLeo blog https://inleo.io/@drax.leo
InLeo: https://inleo.io/signup?referral=drax.leo
Leodex: https://leodex.io/?ref=drax
Hiveonboard: https://hiveonboard.com?ref=drax
Rising Star game: https://www.risingstargame.com?referrer=drax
1Inch: https://1inch.exchange/#/r/0x83823d8CCB74F828148258BB4457642124b1328e
BTC donations: 1EWxiMiP6iiG9rger3NuUSd6HByaxQWafG
ETH donations: 0xB305F144323b99e6f8b1d66f5D7DE78B498C32A7
BCH donations: qpvxw0jax79lhmvlgcldkzpqanf03r9cjv8y6gtmk9