Take every “I’m going to make it big in show biz” cliché you can think of and imagine them all crammed into one oh-so-eighties movie. And here it is. Our heroine is a welder by day rather than a full-time nincompoop, but that’s as far as the picture deviates from the struggling ingénue formula. At night she works in a club in which women dance for men but don’t take their clothes off, sort of a not-too-slutty strip club that allows the protagonist to stretch her artistic wings without coming across as cheap. Then there are the supporting characters, each with his or her own rapidly-failing dream. Then there’s the boss whose misguided attempts to help … well, you get the idea. Beyond the dubious distinction of having put leg warmers on the pop culture map, this movie’s contributions to human history are fairly minimal. See if desperate
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