‘La Femme’ is hardly bachelor-party fare

Kirk Baird

Friday, June 22, 2001 | 8:38 a.m.

In an opening film montage for MGM Grand's new topless show, "La Femme," it states in bright bold letters: "Art was woman; woman was art."

Which, in today's vernacular, means, "I read Playboy for the interviews."

Of course, Playboy is respected for its ability to land both well-known and up-and-coming writers; and its celebrity interviews -- actors, singers, politicians, etc. -- are second to none.

But would Playboy be Playboy without Miss January?

So it goes for "La Femme" (pronounced, "La Fahm") in its attempt to "dress up" the nude every Wednesday through Monday at the La Femme Theater.

An offshoot of the famous Crazy Horse revue in Paris, "La Femme" features 13 classically trained, and, yes, attractive topless and nearly bottomless dancers in a dazzling display of lights, sound and imagination.

Using a mixture of old and new songs, the dancers perform impressively choreographed routines on a small stage -- both solo and in groups, up to and including all 13 women in a few numbers.

Some of the routines are stronger than others: "See-Thru Peek a Boo," which features one dancer too many, seemed ready to end a few minutes before it did; while "Classico Loco," which featured five dancers as ballet students performing to the haunting strains of the Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony," is a standout.

(On a personal note, I would like to thank "La Femme" for ridding my association of "Bittersweet Symphony" with the Nike commercial from a few years ago. I now have a new -- and better -- image to go with the song.)

Oddly enough, at this topless show it's not just the dancers who dazzle.

There's a mid-show comedy-magic duo from Brazil who are fairly impressive -- especially the "robot," whose stilted mannerisms and mime brought back memories of the "Shields and Yarnell Show" from the late '70s. (What? The Krofft puppets were busy?)

And the use of lighting in "La Femme" rivals that of most any high-tech rock show. Not simply used as spotlights or strobe effects, the lighting is as much a part of the show as the dancers, providing color to their otherwise alabaster skin and reflecting all manner of shapes from their bodies.

On the closing of "Adagio," for example, as the dancers disappear under a light canopy of triangle silhouettes, the effect is breathtaking.

This, ultimately, is where "La Femme" elevates itself from simply another topless show to, well, art.

Yes, in "La Femme" there are the poles, ropes, chairs and a few other props for the dancers you'd find in other topless shows. And there are some rather risque poses that, while remaining tasteful, still prove erotic.

But the show never has that topless-show feel. (It helps that you don't hear an announcer yell: "Everybody say, 'Hell yeah! Now put your hands together for Candy!' ")

And you don't feel seedy for watching it, which is perhaps the best compliment you can pay a topless show of this sort. In fact, at this performance the audience was primarily couples.

From what I saw, no one left during the performance and I never overheard anyone say they were offended. Which, at a normal topless show would be unexpected, seeing as how you knew what you were getting into when you paid the cover charge. But for a topless show billed as "art," that remains a possibility.

Still, to those thinking of bringing their significant others for a night of "high-culture and art," I must caution: Although "La Femme" never seemed raw enough for a bachelor party, I don't think I'd bring a girlfriend or wife to the show.

Not unless she liked really good interviews.