Media and Music: The Music of “Burlesque,” and Hollywood’s History of Depicting Sex Work

With a dazzling soundtrack teeming with powerhouse vocals, 2010’s “Burlesque” is a flashy display of the cabaret scene through the eyes of stars like Christina Aguilera and Cher. But the gaudiness of the soundtrack brings up the negative depictions of sex workers that Hollywood likes to perpetuate.

In Media and Music, our writers take a deep dive into how movies use scores and songs to engage viewers, give new meaning and tone to some of our favorite scenes, and establish themes. It almost goes without saying, but there are spoilers abound.

Written by Adam Cherian

Images courtesy of Screen Gems De Line Pictures

“Burlesque” is a 2010 movie that subverts the classic “girl from a small town trying to make it in the big city” trope, adding in the element of burlesque performances. The soundtrack is filled to the brim with classic sounding burlesque songs, starring vocals led by Christina Aguilera and Cher. Despite the film’s glamourous depiction of burlesque, the soundtrack, along with the story itself, follow in the steps of the dangerous trend of glorifying sex work in a way that does not accurately depict the profession.

The young ingenue of the movie, Ali Rose (played by Aguilera), is trying to make it big in Hollywood as a singer. She soon finds that it’s not all glitz and glamor: after moving to Hollywood, she encounters many challenges, including unemployment. She finds comfort in performing at the local show bar, “Burlesque Lounge,” that’s run by house madame Tess (played by Cher). Throughout the movie, Ali changes the idea of what burlesque performance — which typically consists of lip syncing and choreography — is by incorporating her live vocals into her acts. The soundtrack is reflective of this: songs like “Tough Lover,” and “But I’m a Good Girl,” are classic tracks typical of burlesque shows. They feature the sexual, yet playful nature of burlesque, as well as give the audience a chance to enjoy Aguilera’s stellar vocal performance.

The film uses other tracks, like the beautifully performed “Bound to You,” as a device to move the plot forward. These songs on the soundtrack are more pop-oriented and deviate from traditional burlesque style but still incorporate elements of the genre through strings and a classic-sounding 20th century musical style. The campy modern-pop twist on show tunes makes the soundtrack one of the most remarkable elements of the film alongside its glamorous makeup and costuming, but its grandeur creates a façade that, along with the movie’s plot, ultimately masks the dark reality of Hollywood’s glamorization of sex work.

One must first understand the history of burlesque as it pertains to sex work. Burlesque has always existed in close proximity to the world of sex work and sexual revolutions. Specifically, it is a type of performance where the performer puts on an oftentimes sexy caricature, typically through choreography. Though there are obvious differences with the work performed, burlesque is often thought of as a form of dancing similar to stripping. To say the two are not at all related is inaccurate, and adds to the idea of the hierarchy of sex work, which labels some paths in the profession as inherently “better” than others. This hierarchy is based on how much physical contact a sex worker has with their client. The ones on the top are typically cam girls or porn stars, and the ones on the bottom are full service workers who “walk the stroll.”

The movie’s soundtrack is complicated in that it showcases inaccurate depictions of sex work, but does so in a manner that does not come across as particularly harmful outright. For example, in the song “But I’m a Good Girl,” Ali is performing in a very flirtatious, yet sexy manner. The song is about a girl whose partner buys everything for them, and they do not have to lift a finger. The lyrics, “They all say, ‘darling, what did you do for those pearls?’” perfectly exemplify the sentiment.

Though this is a sort of jokingly cute song, the implications of a woman using her body to get everything from a man can inadvertently glorify the concept of sex as a service, or the female body as a commodity. In reality, sex work is a laborious profession, in which discrimination runs rampant. The concept of using a man for his money as a sex worker is an old trope that does not take into account the massive amounts of danger this industry holds.

Another example of this glorification is “Show Me How You Burlesque,” a fun call-to-action song meant to inspire the club-goers to get up and dance in the movie. In it, the sentiments of being a strong woman that can make money by charming men is proudly exclaimed through gaudy lyrics: “Don't need a sugar daddy, she can work it just fine.” Although seemingly harmless upon the initial listen, the meaning behind the track supports the false notion that “charming” men is easy work and any woman can do it, making it a gross simplification of what sex work entails.

Although these instances may seem like small problems, the glorification of sex work is indicative of a bigger issue with Hollywood. Sex workers rarely get to tell their own stories about their experiences. This leads to film executives, a demographic that is, both notably and unsurprisingly, mostly men, telling their stories for them. This further perpetuates the harm sex workers face by giving audiences different ideas of what sex work is without taking into the account the perspective of a real-life professional.

“Burlesque” is a campy musical that retells a tale as old as time, with the extravagant elements of the showgirl performance style separating it from the rest. Despite the flashy performances in the film, its soundtrack exposes its delusions of grandeur when listeners realize that there seems to be a disconnect between the cast’s portrayals and the real lives of burlesque dancers. Its inaccurate depiction of hardships that come with the profession perpetuates harm to the sex work community, making “Burlesque” a prime example of how Hollywood co-opts stories of vulnerable populations. To best avoid this in the future, the industry should make more accurate stories of sex workers, using them as a the primary source.