An (Un)Erotically Good Time

I should have known what I was getting myself into when, as a 26-year-old woman, I attended my first burlesque show with my 48-year-old male friend (platonic, for real). I was lampooned. It was my first time experiencing Murray Hill’s barbed wit, and he went relatively easy on me—probably because I refused to respond and play his game. It all went down Thursday night during [This is Burlesque] at Corio, and I admit it: I was terrified.

The geeky lecherous show announcer interrogated the lesbian couple, the heterosexual young woman with her gay roommate, the gay couple, the law student celebrating her 25th birthday, a group of Germans. Then he went on to chastise a posse for being on their BlackBerries, telling them that ordering their crack supply during her show was rude. “Do that after the show please, and stay out of the bathrooms. That supply’s for our performers.”

I watched, innocently, as each performer stripped until she was left with only a g-string and pasties. It was more theatric than erotic, and the dancers were surprisingly well-rehearsed. At intermission, a woman with fake eyelashes went around the room selling nipple tassels from a cigar box.

I really didn’t expect the food to be so good. The three-course, $40 fixed price had generous portions, and I ate the biggest scallops in my life (seriously, theses suckers were HUGE).

As a neophyte, I went looking for meaning in the show’s context. When I asked a hostess about the feminist ramifications, she replied, “No, I think this is just entertainment. It’s a revival of This is Burlesque from the 1950s.” It’s true, the restaurant’s décor, coupled with the venue’s soundtrack—“Sweet Sue” by Django Reinhardt and Duke Ellington’s “Blue Pepper”—and performers’ gimmicks did transport me to another time (but was it 1920s? ’50s?’60s? it was a mashup of it all).

Once I was able to escape unscathed, I realized I’d enjoyed myself (or at least my editor says so). Since the lecherous male emcee was played by a woman, I felt somehow protected from any real insult or harm. And in the end, laughing at everyone and everything, was all part of the fun.

This is Burlesque, Corio, 337 West Broadway (at Grand St.) 212-966-3901, Thursdays to Saturdays, through Friday, February 29, 2008, 8pm, $25

[Photo by Casey Noel]