Naked Boys Singing Review
By Don Willmott
Good
Ten naked men in a Rockettes-style high-kick line. Imagine all the flopping around. Actually, you don't need to imagine it. Check out Naked Boys Singing, and you can see exactly what it looks like. This fast-paced and intermittently witty stage revue, a crowd pleaser that has played in small theaters in liberal-minded cities for almost 10 years, has been committed to film faithfully if somewhat artlessly. Shot in an LA theater from right behind the live audience's collective head, it's as if you're sitting in row M, sort of.
The film climaxes early (so to speak) when Kevin Stea, whose dance credits go all the way back to Madonna's Truth or Dare, dips and glides with a mop and broom as he sings about his travails working as "The Naked Maid." That's quickly followed by big numbers about a bris, the danger of getting an erection in a high school locker room, lust for Robert Mitchum, and the joys of masturbation. One memorable number is a sort of choral madrigal with lyrics that consist of nothing but slang words for "penis." You can't say it's not creative.
Continue reading: Naked Boys Singing Review
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