Pride Keeps It Together (Forever and Ever)

It is the Fourth of July and if I'd been thinking ahead, I'd have posted my piece on Shortbus here instead of on June 29th. After all, it's a bit more patriotic than today's entry given the fact that there's a marching band in Shortbus as well as a man crooning The Star-Spangled Banner up another man's ass. Which pretty much sums up the state of our union right now. 

But enough about that, let's talk about 1991's Truth or Dare, a music documentary that has nothing at all to do with the conman-in-chief's "Freedom 250" tribute to himself, and everything to do with one of the most polarizing and, at one time, ubiquitous pop culture figures that isn't him. We're talking about Madonna and, in this case, her Blonde Ambition World Tour which was captured on film by music video director Alek Keshishian in 1990. Originally intending for the production to be a straightforward concert film, Keshishian quickly became fascinated with the carnivalesque atmosphere behind the scenes and persuaded Madonna to give his camera crew full access to her entire troupe as they enthralled, rewound, repeated during a punishing year of performances across the globe.  

With concert scenes filmed live and in color, and backstage intrigues photographed in the black-and-white aesthetic of cinema verite, the visual style of the film is both striking and compelling. The latter sets aside the exceptional showmanship on center stage, giving us glimpses into the kinetic "real" lives of Madonna and Company. But, as Madonna's beau-of-the-moment, Warren Beatty, points out in her dressing room, she is "always living on camera", so it's hard to know if her moments of candor are genuine or performative. It certainly feels authentic when she admits she's not a great singer or dancer, sips soup in her hotel room sans makeup with her hair tucked under a plastic beauty parlor cap, reads the riot act to people who aren't fully on board with her vision and talks trash with her friend Sandra Bernhard. It's the Madonna we don't usually see, warts and all. 

The most engaging moments in the film are those Madonna shares in hotel rooms with her fellow performers. These young dancers (mostly male, mostly gay, all people of color) are, by all appearances, guileless despite their seemingly hip attitudes and challenging backgrounds. Except for the lone straight male dancer, they have a genuine camaraderie with each other, and with Madonna, who is relaxed and jocular when she's with them. She obviously cares about these guys (and her two female backup dancers), treating them all as trusted friends and near-equals during their interludes of horseplay and mother-hen sessions. They occasionally play Truth or Dare, which pushes the game to its limits: two of the male dancers must French kiss (they don't seem to mind)

and Madonna is tasked with demonstrating her oral sex technique on a water bottle. 

But, make no mistake, she's still the boss, demanding the same amount of focus and discipline from her dancers as she imposes upon herself.

There are also some unfortunate scenes that aren't all that flattering to Madonna's efforts to seem "real". First and foremost is one involving an outing during the show's performance date in her hometown of Detroit. Having lost her mother at age 5, Madonna, along with brother Christopher, pays a visit to the cemetery where she winds up lying on her mother's grave to reflect on her loss, and how that has impacted her life. Instead of being moving, the sequence comes off as tasteless, a ham-handed attempt to inject the film with a bit of pathos while humanizing its subject. There's not much emotion behind Madonna's words and, anyway, how much could she actually remember about a woman who died when she was 5 years old? Long before this documentary was filmed, Madonna was already a tough cookie with a hard edge she didn't attempt to conceal. So, the cemetery scene seems especially obnoxious and phony. There's also her reunion with an old school chum who asks Madonna to be godmother to her unborn child. Things get uncomfortable, at best, and end up being--sort of--played for laughs at the poor woman's expense. Madonna's interactions with her family also feel a little forced. There's obviously some sort of history there that's only hinted at when her father--at first--demurs when she asks him if he plans on attending her concert. When he does show up, she puts him in the spotlight so the crowd can sing Happy Birthday to him. This man is clearly nonplussed. There certainly seems to be a distinct lack of warmth between Madonna and her family members, at least those seen onscreen. That doesn't necessarily mean she's solely to blame. She's probably not. It's awkward is all I'm saying. 

Another really icky scene has one of Madonna's makeup artists casually confessing to going out the night before, getting roofied and waking up naked and bloodied in a hotel room after having been apparently sexually assaulted. The woman is perfectly calm as she relates her claim but no one--not Madonna or either of the female dancers--appears to be concerned. At all. They hear her story without emotion or comment, which is very disturbing in itself, suggesting that the young woman has been previously warned about venturing out alone. Even so...what the fuck?  

The cameos by Beatty, Antonio Banderas and Kevin Costner are also treated with a certain disdain or annoyance: Beatty comes off as judgmental and smug (why were they ever together anyway?), Banderas is married and unavailable (though she'd still sleep with him if given the opportunity), and Costner is, well, Costner. 

The concert scenes themselves are spectacular. After releasing her first album, some critics accused Madonna of having a "reedy, thin" voice but here she belts out some of her greatest hits with full-throated gusto and power. A formally trained dancer, Madonna's moves are confident, sexy, athletic and perfectly synchronized with the young men and women backing her up. Thanks to Vincent Paterson's outstanding choreography and Madonna's dedication to perfection, the performances are galvanizing. 

There are some slight hiccups during the show's tour, as when Toronto police give notice that Madonna will be arrested if she does her (simulated) masturbation bit during the naughty, frenetic Like a Virgin. Willful and undaunted, she rolls her eyes, smiles ruefully and flatly refuses to change her show, daring the cops to take action while asserting her right of artistic expression. A huge controversy ensues, money changes hands, a perfunctory explanation is given by the police to news outlets, and the show proceeds as usual. In Italy, Madonna is forced to cancel two shows because Pope Paul II and the Vatican's Hatchet Crew are not amused by the assumed blasphemous vulgarity and sexual posturing on display in the numbers Like a Prayer and Live to Tell. (Somewhere there's a dance sequence that--allegedly--features same-sex pairings among the male dancers onstage, but I guess that didn't make it into the film's final cut.) Even the weather gets testy when drenching rain showers and faulty sound equipment in Tokyo threaten to put a damper on the whole performance. And yet, the show goes on anyway. Night after night in city after city, their stamina and endurance tested to the limit, Madonna and her retinue of performers continue spinning their magic, until at last, the tour ends and tearful goodbyes break the spell as she moves on to the next chapter of her story. 

The Blonde Ambition Tour wound up being a massive success that "revolutionized the concept of the stadium pop concert" (Google), while Truth or Dare held the title of highest-grossing documentary ever made until provocateur Michael Moore released Bowling for Columbine in 2002.

While Madonna's star power has lost much of its luster over the past couple of decades, it must be remembered that she was--and remains--one of the LGBTQ+ community's staunchest allies, raising awareness for AIDS and giving a high-profile voice to a segment of the population that right-wingers and hatemongers have long tried to silence. In 2012, while on tour in Russia, she infamously stood on stage and urged her audience to love and respect their gay brothers and sisters after a homophobic "gay propaganda" law had just been passed in Moscow. Just last month, she surprised New Yorkers (and tourists) with a 15-minute pop-up concert in Times Square that kicked off Pride Month. Her latest album, Connections II--released just 2 days ago--is receiving the best response to anything she's done since her Grammy-winning Confessions on a Dance Floor in 2005 (to which this album is a direct sequel). 

Say what you will about Madonna--and what hasn't been said?--she is still a force to be reckoned with. She's fearless and driven, self-serving and compassionate, equal parts beloved and despised by much of the world's populace--a dichotomy and an icon who, in spite of everything, does what she does best by carrying on and keeping it together. Forever and ever.