I wanted very badly to have an awesome time at The Painted Ladies, a burlesque style, sexually provocative dance show at the East Village’s Mo Pitkin’s. The venue is perfect for the rowdy, risque women, and the potential was there, but the end result was a surprising dull night, nursing a very strong margarita, waiting for something truly thrilling to happen.

To be fair, the women have talent, energy, and are all excellent performers. The director, Jenny Rocha, particuarly stands out from the very first number. The dancers are fearless and brazen and their faces are just as expressive as their bodies. They are all strikingly beautiful, their costumes are fun and creative, the music they chose was memorable. How then, did I find the time to be bored, you ask? Easy. In between each of the seven dance numbers there is a long break– just as long as the numbers themselves. Each time the break arrived, I found myself checking my phone, looking around the room at other bored customers, and wishing I could be somewhere else. The dances were also at times repetitive and unfocussed. I wasn’t always sure what I was watching or why. And instead of feeling excited about interpretting the night on my own, I felt confused by the overt and awkward sexuality, and uncomfortable with the luke warm response of the audience.

Somehow, The Painted Ladies get lost in the strange place in between legitimate dance performance and Coyote Ugly style dancing bartenders. Since they commit to neither, they stay trapped in a kind of purgatory of almost-ness. They have the talent, courage, spirit, and direction to achieve greatness, so I felt a real sadness at their inability to utilize their strengths. Even my very strong (and let’s face it, overpriced) margarita wasn’t enough to liven my night at this oddly unsatisfying event.