SuicideGirls Blackheart Burlesque left me underwhelmed - and depressed

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"It's going to be trashy." That was the description a small group of 30-something women gave me when I asked them how that night's SuicideGirls Blackheart Burlesque was going to compare to the Dita Von Teese show I had seen at the same location, The Fillmore, a month prior. The talkative one predicted that the SG show was going to be "totally different - they get completely naked and make out with each other." She leaned in a little closer to me, "They're a big deal with lesbians."

Judging from the crowd, the SuicideGirls appeal to plenty of heterosexual men too - and not just the pierced and inked guys. Everybody has their fantasy girl and for some, it's a small-chested 22-year-old with neon green pig-tails and a tattoo of the Millennium Falcon on her thigh.

Even with nods to cult classics like Star Wars, Planet of the Apes and Pulp Fiction, the Girls lacked the spirit of playfulness that is the allure of burlesque. Or maybe this group of girls just weren't very good actors. I wanted to like the show, I really did. I like seeing different forms of sexual expression displayed. I like seeing different kinds of bodies celebrated. But by the end of the show I felt depressed and guilty for watching the trainwreck.

To clarify, the Girls did not get naked or make out with each other. They were relatively tame. One smeared cake on her tits and another gave a couple lucky audience members a body shot of Jack, but that was about as wild as they got. I'm not sure how it was much different than your average strip show or college party, except that the Suicide Girls get to wear "X's" taped over their nipples.

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