Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.
RN: Oy, "Burlesque." Where to begin?
CP: Start with the screenplay, which should have been stamped "Burn This."
RN: It doesn't stink up the cineplex quite as much as "Showgirls," thankfully. I think the great goddess Cher had it stipulated in her contract that she would recite the inane dialogue only if she were photographed in near-darkness.
CP: In movies now a quarter-century old, Cher proved her great acting chops. Sadly, the "Burlesque" formula froze her dramatic talent as surely as Botox has paralyzed much of her famous visage. My God, the diva, at 63, has four lips.
RN: The lipstick budget was bested only by the wig budget. Still, Ms. Sarkisian can deliver a song, even the paltry two she was handed here. And she can toss off a cutting barb. Like when dancer/shrew Kristen Bell shrieks, "I quit," and Cher, the burlesque club's owner/Mother Superior, deadpans, "I'm glad."
CP: But then the former Mrs. Bono must utter things like "maybe you can learn from my mistakes."
RN: Sick-making, kind of like the choreography. I hope the Fosse estate is suing for theft. The only two actors who kept their shirts on were Eric Dane -- which is a tragedy -- and Alan Cumming -- which isn't.
