Carol Doda Topless At the Condor

It was 60 years ago, 1964, that San Francisco nightclub dancer Carol Doda emerged from the hole in the ceiling of the Condor, Venus descendant, shimmying on top of the baby grand piano that was her platform, and exposed her bare nipples to a warm and appreciative audience. It marked a grand blow against pasties, and, some would claim, a definitive step towards women’s liberation. At any rate, American showbiz would not be the same again, no matter that the forces of law and probity would try to stuff the genie back in the bottle.

Marlo McKenzie and Jonathan Parker’s engaging doc is at once a nostalgia trip to a particularly fecund time and place, an affectionate portrait of a troubled but resilient performer, and a thoughtful reflection on the pros and cons of baring your boobs for bucks. America came a long way in the 1960s, for better and for worse, and for a while there Carol Doda was riding the crest of the wave. The Condor became a tourist hotspot, second only to the Golden Gate Bridge, and Carol embraced the emerging science of silicon injections to make sure the fans did not go home disappointed.