The Empire Strips Back

The Empire Strips Back: a review:

Last winter in San Diego, I came upon an ad for this show—apparently a Las Vegas styled theatrical  strip show with Star Wars as a theme. I was amused. I gave it 5 seconds thought and moved on. Months later, visiting with friend Jennifer, I learned that her son had purchased tickets to a matinee of this show in Seattle. I laughed and told them of my passing interest and the next thing I know, Kernie purchased me a ticket and Jennifer agreed to come pick me up.

What does one wear to a theatrical strip show?

Disclosure: I learned the term “burlesque” in of all places, my eighth grade English class and was aware through movies, reading, and music what it classically entails: Campy, risque material set to music and a tradition that is in decline (think Gypsie Rose Lee). With this in mind, Kernie thought to include Tres but I was pretty sure one had to be eighteen to go and that was in fact the policy. I assumed breasts would be exposed at this 2025 version of burlesque even if it wasn’t in Las Vegas. My family agreed. Tres stayed home.

Up to this point, I have never been to a Gentleman’s club much less a strip joint in all of my life though I have seen nudity on stage (Equus and Spring Awakening).  What to think?

My thinking was that this could be interesting, a total bust, or both.

The setting for the matinee (4:00) was the Pacific Science Center in Seattle which was a delight as I have had rare chances to go there since Covid. Prior to that, Kernie and I had a ritual of visiting that campus with season tickets to the Rep theatre.

The theatre was recessed on the campus with lots of tree cover. The building was Spartan: simple brick walls, a bar or two, a concession stand in the corner—- and lots of empty space. The theatre was small—there were no bad seats. The only communication upon entering was, “absolutely no photographs or videos.”

Expectation setting is how I saw it……..as were some of the clothes people in the audience thought to wear. I don’t recall fishnets being in any of the Star War Movies.

The seating was done by zones; my partners in crime had “Emperor” tickets (front level with the stage) and I had “A” tickets six rows in. They politely found two seats at the frontier between these zones spying a lone seat for me on the row behind them, between two couples.

I immediately was frustrated by the lack of leg room and my artificial knee would require a bit of adjustment and jostling the couples on each side as I eventually stuck my leg between the bars over one of the exit corridors (and over which, thankfully I sat).  The couple next to me were in their mid to late thirties. They were drinking and we soon engaged: there was the story of how the Teddy Bear came to be followed by how tough Teddy Roosevelt was, giving a speech after being shot in the chest. It irritated the husband that I could answer each, “and do you know what happened,” correctly and we quickly concluded that we both loved history.  His wife reached over to pet me with affection. I did a social history: he was raised in the Northwest but did eight years in the navy as a mechanic on ships. He was stationed in San Diego. He no longer did mechanical work but was a manager in a business. He explained Navy ranks in some detail to his wife as I confided that I grew up near North Island and had a Captain for a father, therefore getting my expertise in things naval by osmosis. He laughed. His wife petted me again.

The show began: the basic set up was a stand up comic introduced the show, elicited responses on each act, was quite humorous as he singled out individuals in the audience with reactions to questions. Talking to the husband, I missed his line about the 4:00 matinee had to have some aging patrons and he started working through the decades. I did not hear my decade called but the wife breathily asked me how old I was and there was some confusion about my age (70’s) vs my birth decade (50’s) and she grew very excited about my being in the top decade showing up.

The stand up was clear that we were in for a good time. He managed expectations: “Now I know this is going to be steamy but I want this to be a good time, a respectful time, and I don’t want crazy shit from ya’ll—-no screaming, “show me your titties!”  For the next hour, if there was innuendo or a loud response requested, the husband had a piercing whistle and shout as well. He cried out more than any other patron watching. For example, one scene had Han Solo licking the tip of his blaster-pistol. The comic was holding this between sets and then asked the audience if he only licked the tip or the whole thing.  Husband shouted out, “And then there’s where else did he put it!” This comment was ignored as was the wife’ response, “Doggie” when the appropriate question was asked.

I had clearly over dressed for this.

The strength of the show lay in costuming. The dancing (part of any Burlesque show) was at times impressive and at times reminded me of the days when my girls, as pre-adolescents went to “Debbie’s Dance” the local dance studio for girls who did not want the formality of ballet. I often wondered what the end point for those who continued with it  into adolescence and I think I answered my question, live at the Pacific Science Center.

It became clear: Star War characters, male and female wear a lot of clothes. The music choices were for a younger audience (I recognized perhaps two songs of 8 in the first act) and during each song, the uniforms and layers came off until there was a bra and thong, usually with some costume still clinging here and there. Breasts were not exposed.

But there was twerking and splits emphasized by jumping motions that looked too painful to allow enjoyment from this audience.

Two dance routines stood out: a slow dance that was set to a tune I did not recognize, found two creatures, (? Twi”leks?) slow dancing synchronously without taking clothes off. They had serene facial expressions and wore sheer body suits to show off their thin/athletic builds. A strip of cloth looped around the neck and covered each breast— barely and the effect achieved was in fact pretty erotic. The surprise as the song ended was each facing each other, unlaced the tie behind the neck, which then fell, and then they turned to face the audience to review brass colored pasties.

Burlesque!

Princes Leia!

A humorous bit had Star Troopers with massive breast shields made of plastic, odd  space creatures in the back ground and a covered gnome which when the hoodie was taken away, found us looking at a wrinkled pale old man: the Emperor, no less. A few dance steps later, and a sewn on cloth, medium sized, penis but rather elongated and enlarged scrotum was exposed and his dancing found this appendage swinging to the delight of all (yes, I laughed too). Many a woman’s curiosity was satisfied as he sat on different creatures and the pervasive question of, “what happens when you sit on …..”was explicitly answered.

Off stage, during intermission, I went to the bathroom and the modern world of young people was displayed: a multitude of overweight young women in costume, lines forming in what are now genderless bathrooms which meant the traditional men’s room had a line for stalls and line  for the urinal. The banter in line, men on one side and women on the other inevitably went to, “I don’t mind if you want to use the urinal standing up.” I piped up and got an “Awww,” response to my story about three year old Amber, moribund in the Emergency Room, possibly septic and  with a request to pee in a jar finding her uncooperative. I got the sample: “Amber, what if you try this, you can stand up and I will let you pee into the cup standing up!” The idea was so out of left-field, she went for it and a UTI was ruled out.

Lastly, returning from intermission, I decided to not go back to my original seat. I wanted leg room and waited for the room to fill so I could claim a new seat. Just before heading to it, the wife smiled at me and patted the chair next to her.

I responded, making eye contact: “Oh, I know but I need to sit where I can stretch my leg.”

“But we bought you a beer!”

I lied: “I don’t drink, but thank you!”

I was actually touched by this gesture and waited for them as they exited to thank them one more time.

I got a smile, a nod, but no petting. Time to go!