All kinds of wonderful

Rating: Null/10 (14 August 2011)

Hands up if you love Cher. I love Cher. The gay friend who accompanied me to the screening loves Cher. If you love Cher then you will love Burlesque. If you don't love Cher, don't see Burlesque.
In a recent interview, Cher revealed that she brought her own clothes to set as the costumer's tastes were a little on the sober side. Thank goodness for this; the gay friend and I went to see Cher being Cher, not Cher playing someone who is not Cher, and she delivered. Unbridled adoration aside, Cher belies her facial paralysis to give a camp yet sincere performance as the staunch club mistress. An eyebrow raise is worth a thousand words; and she could have done with fewer words and more eyebrow raises. The writer/director Steven Antin's only saving grace is that the script is so bad, it's good and Cher carries his words off with facetious charm.
The same cannot be said for the lead (for Cher is technically the support) Christina Aguilera. As Ali, the personification of the small- town girl dreaming big cliché, Aguilera is sickly and stiff. She has only ever played herself before on the silver screen and it shows. Obviously complacent in the knowledge that Antin wrote the part for her, Aguilera bats her eyelashes through the first half of the film before letting her abnormal singing ability carry her through the rest. And she's not even as bad as it gets
I'd like to name and shame the casting director responsible for placing Kristin Bell in the second supporting role opposite Cher but there doesn't seem to be one. I can only imagine that Mr Antin himself took on the role with a bevy of assistants, which explains the gargantuan error. Rumour has it that Jessica Biel and Lindsay Lohan were considered for the role. Why it fell to the dry, sexless Bell to perform awkwardly alongside glittering professional dancers I can't imagine. Happily, she seems to be the only bad egg in the mixture of talent that makes up the rest of the basket.
Relative unknown Cam Gigant smolders inoffensively throughout, bringing some light relief to Aguilera's domestic scenes. Alan Cummings sparkles in a couple of well placed cameos, lending an air of retro cabaret in this fluffy nod to the industry. And then there was Stanley Tucci. This man seems to pop up in the most unexpected of roles and in films where they need him the most. Tucci is the thread that holds this film together. He (somehow) feigns a fatherly chemistry with Aguilera and makes all those he converses with shine for a millisecond. He adds some weight to Cher's naturally occurring campiness and makes the audience question whether the film really is awful or if they just don't get it. "If Stanley Tucci is in it, it MUST be good."
Failing all else, Burlesque hired Blade Runner's costume designer, so at the very least you can get lost in a blur of sequins and flesh. A trick highlighted by the song Razzle Dazzle from Chicago (a camp musical that actually made money) "How can they see with sequins in their eyes? Razzle Dazzle them and they'll never catch wise." Fooled me; I loved it.