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Salient. Official Newspaper of the Victoria University Students' Association. Vol 44 No. 3. March 16 1981

Film — Wiggles and Giggles — Divine Madness

Film

Wiggles and Giggles

Divine Madness

We can only thank God that Barbara Streisand hasn't had the nerve to do it... yet. Neil Young did it, with tongue firmly in cheek and hand firmly on purse strings, and bored all but the most rabid devotees to distraction. The Band did it, and probably caused more stir than at any other time in their 15 years of existence. And now, Ladies and Germs, the Divine Miss M; Bette Midler, has done it, all over the big screen. Divine Madness is a concert movie, made over three consecutive nights of performances in Pasadena, and as such it's not surprising that it's Midler's show and Midler's show alone. Miss M. wobbles, wiggles, giggles, and warbles her way through 1½ hours of live concert footage and, for those of us who can take a joke, provides a good show.

This is not, however, a show for the prudish. For those who are only familiar with the name because of the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy song and the magnificent performance in The Rose, it might be prudent to point out that, as a performer, Miss Midler seems to be seeking a middle ground between Mae West and the Playboy jokes page. Her career began in gay sauna clubs and gin joints, and perhaps because of this apprenticeship, her performance has a streak of vulgarity as broad as her own posterior, and about as much taste as a Big Mac. Yet she performs with such raunchy panache and verve as to be all but irresistable (to those of us who can take a joke). She tells the most outrageous stories, indulges in the most outrageous of on-stage antics (fondling a couple of coconuts, wiggling her tassle, flaunting her appendages) and even in the songs that come-between the patter, never takes herself too seriously. But through this hour and a half 'time capsule' of her show, as she herself calls it, we are shown some development of her character, from the strutting posturing bundle of nerves in the first reel, via her various incarnations (as Sophie Tucker and Dolores Delago the toast of Chicago) to the happy relaxed woman at the end who seems genuinely delighted at the audience's response.

Photo of Bette Midler performing in 'Divine Madness'

The production of Divine Madness pampers Miss Midler as a star should be pampered. The lighting repeats the same marvels that it did in The Rose, turning Midler from Woman into Butterfly or Goddess, an effect enhanced by clever editing. Perhaps the inclusion of several long, loud songs is unwise, as these are no interest whatsoever to anyone other than Midler groupies. The sound system at the St. James butchers them beyond recognition, and the star's tendency to sing a wee bit out-of-tune serves only to further alienate, so that when the third or fourth chorus of I Shall Be Released comes around, we are indeed waiting to be released. Like many other singers, Midler makes the mistake of thinking that a husky, croaky voice sounds expressive; in fact, it's a little laughable for her to finish one song sounding like a dying Billie Holiday and then immediately launch into another sounding like the foghorn on the Eddystone Lighthouse.

Small criticism, however, because then comes a little more of the priceless patter, and she wakes you up again.

Sure, Divine Madness has the odd dull patch if you don't get off on pop music, but it's still worth seeing for those bits we will remember for months, the bit about the Royal Family especially (Prince Charles proposed to Lady Di after seeing this film in a Royal Command Performance; need we say more?).

Two words of advice:
1.Do not arrive before 8.35pm. The featurettes are truly abominable.
2.Please leave your babies at home; one voice screeching at a time is sufficient.

S.D. & H.M.

Photo of Bette Midler performing in 'Divine Madness' wearing a jumpsuit