Crazy Horse

Although Frederick Wiseman is a pioneer of direct cinema, his latest movie, Crazy Horse, sure revels in illusion. Direct cinema is a form of documentary filmmaking that arose in the late 1950s. It took advantage of new portable camera and sound recorders to offer a look at subjects as never before, rejecting interviews, staged footage, etc. in favor of a fly-on-the-wall approach where the camera simply watches as events unfold. Wiseman has spent his career investigating institutions of various shades as the names of his films indicate: High School, Hospital, Public Housing, et al.

The subject here is the Crazy Horse, a legendary cabaret in Paris that features fully nude dancing. Illusion is usually lurking somewhere and the movie is bookended with footage of a man doing some shadow puppetry which was really quite neat. (Variety acts take the stage in between the erotic dances.) The second thing we witness is one of the dancers in a small recording studio moaning and sighing into a microphone as if she were in the throes of ecstasy. Those salacious sounds would go on to be featured in one of the dance numbers later in the movie. Both of these scenes serve to remind the viewer that, despite the promise of female flesh, what is to come is really all an act.

And there is plenty of female flesh with several routines being shown. Early on there's one called "Baby Buns" which features a cloying piece of music and the dancers giving the audience and the camera a lasting eyeful of callipygian delight. Indeed, the female bottom is a something of a motif here. More than one routine emphasizes it and Wiseman's camera is happy to go along. His lens is squarely focused on a pair of them in one dance involving two women writhing and dangling from a metal ring while what looks like photos of stained glass are projected onto their bodies. During an audition you can hear the judges whispering amongst themselves about the women's asses. The idea of illusion returns in another routine in which the dancers extend various parts of their body above and parallel to a mirror so that each part gracefully moves along with its image.

In addition to being erotic, the dances are very technical with props, lights, and patterns projected onto the stage. I was surprised that the French of all people disallowed labia as all the women wore these black pudenda pasties. It was also odd how the women had virtually identical bodies. They were all roughly the same height, had the same waists, and the same cup size. Their breasts were even all basically the same shape. It was like the Stepford dancers.

These erotic illusions are pulled off because of a lot of work behind the scenes. The dancers practice, technicians perfect their lighting cues and sync music, and so on. In one scene choreographer Philippe Decouflé argues with some of the other staff that the Crazy Horse must close temporarily so that the new production can be perfected. There are also some moments of levity backstage such as when a group of dancers are watching a ballet blooper reel and laughing as the dancers fall or get caught up in a curtain. In another a transsexual auditions but is rejected. Apparently the folks at the Crazy Horse only take illusion so far.

My main gripe is that the backstage scenes were haphazard and, perhaps, overly utilitarian. It was interesting – to a point – to see just how the marvelous performances are crafted but there wasn't much for me as a viewer to latch onto to carry me through the process. A new show is being mounted but there were no issues that we could witness being overcome nor any people that we could really follow. There was nothing to anchor those scenes for the viewer.