Femmes Fatale (aka

Femmes Fatale

Written & directed by Morris Sullivan

Starring Miss Rae, Miss Christy, and Miss Scarlet

Club Juana, Casselberry, FL

Is this a dagger I see in my hand? Oooh… no, I guess not. A certain portion, a very large portion, of American society avoids the fine arts. The city of Casselberry, Florida wants to fix this, and in a unique way. The law forbids the simultaneous purchase of overpriced beer and nude dancing. The dancers must wear at least a thong and large bandages , like those round ones you never know what to do with, on their naughty bits. However, if the performance involves Fine Art, you can get overpriced beer and see total nudity. This distinction is quite fine, but oh, so important.

A series of sketches, loosely based on important literary works, fills the runway — err, stage. We hear the Marquis De Sade question sexual morals, which leads to some light bondage and spanking. He was thrown in prison (and not one of these nice modern ones) for these ideas. Today he would be a top-rated talk show host. After a bit of interpretive dancing (think Isadora Duncan with pierced genitalia), we see a very clever piece on the pitfalls of sex via computer. While Miss Rae types on a blow up computer, Misses Christy and Scarlet mime the action, wearing nothing but black hoods and masks, aping the anonymity of the modern electronic world. Guess what. Not everyone is who they seem online!

The evening’s highlight staged the three weird sisters scene from the classic Scottish play, Mac you-know-who. Arm in arm, our actresses danced around a steaming cauldron of CO2, wearing nothing but those cheesy witches hats you get for your 8-year-old on Halloween. It looked good, but Scotland’s not the sort of place one wants to visit in the buff.

Throbbing disco, icy cold AC, and about as many film crews as patrons opened this show for an indefinite run at one of Central Florida’s cultural and architectural landmarks. I think the thoughts and minds of the regulars were uplifted. I know mine was.

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