Carol Doda Topless at the Condor
Directed by Jonathan Parker & Marlo McKenzie
Runtime: 101 minutes
In select theaters

by Joe Carlough, Staff Writer

The documentary Carol Doda Topless at the Condor, out now via Picturehouse, sure isn’t lacking any charm. The story follows the changing attitudes towards nudity, feminism, and sexual liberation through the lens of one particularly popular dancer at a club in San Francisco in the 1960’s. An artful mix of personal biopic, social commentary, and urban history, Carol Doda Topless at the Condor has a lot to say–and if you’re a sucker for vintage photos and footage of major American cities like I am, you’re going to love watching this doc.

The central storyline follows the prominence of Carol Doda as the second greatest attraction in San Francisco after The Golden Gate Bridge during her long-standing tenure at the only-kinda-sleazy nightclub The Condor during the 60’s. Doda, a cocktail waitress who worked the front of the house, was known to jump up onto the stage to dance with the house band, which was so well-loved that she soon stopped waiting tables altogether. As her popularity rose and the gimmicks surrounding her vibrant personality expanded, her act changed from “Carol Doda dances with band” to “Carol Doda dances atop piano that lowers from the ceiling while wearing a monokini, a topless bathing suit variant.” The idea of a woman dancing topless was entirely new at the time, and The Condor soon found itself the hottest nightclub in the city, though the others weren’t far behind as Doda’s fame spread. Soon everything on Broadway became topless: topless bands, topless men’s clothing stores–even topless shoe shine stands. As the topless trend spilled out onto public streets, the citywide police crackdowns began, leading to arrests, lawsuits, and more publicity than these nightclubs could have ever afforded.

It’s a fascinating story, with constant digressions and tributaries to follow, which leads to my main criticism of the documentary: there are so many asides and mini-histories that Carol herself can disappear for large chunks of the movie at a time. Early in the film I expected it to be a serious look at feminism and the male gaze surrounding a burgeoning scene of nudity, but after digging into feminism, the topic was largely dropped. We’re given a comprehensive history of the monokini, which is really only important to the beginning of the story. We hear lots of asides about the “respectable” visitors to the nightclub, highlighting its novelty and Doda’s growing celebrity, from the sons of then-Republican presidential hopeful Barry Goldwater to Frank Sinatra. We learn the history of black music in this part of the country and its influence on not just the local scene, but the attitude of the country. There’s a constant parade of other local clubs, musicians dancers, promoters, and owners. We learn a lot about silicone breast implants, a new discovery linked to vats of leftover, industrial-grade silicone used in the Second World War. The documentary ends by focusing back on Doda, the one constant throughout each era, and the myriad interesting–and sometimes odd–ideas she got herself into later in her life. Most of these tangents are interesting enough to warrant their own documentaries, but they can leave the doc feeling a little incoherent one after another. The scope of the documentary is massive, and I found myself interested in every bit they brought up, but it did leave me feeling exhausted, like the old days of cramming for a test.

Overall, I enjoyed everything I learned from Carol Doda Topless at the Condor, sending me down multiple rabbit holes and leaving me with tab after tab of Wikipedia pages open after watching. I couldn’t help but feel I wanted more–maybe there’s a mini-series here–but there’s only so much history and expert analysis you can pack into one documentary, and it’s packed in so tightly here the doc bulges at the seams. I particularly wanted to know more about Doda’s life post-celebrity, a life that included everything from dramatic acting roles to personal skincare lines to sex phone operating. Doda buoys the documentary as it spans decades, a force so special and powerful she could never be denied. The documentary could be smartly summed up by my favorite quote from Doda herself: “Yes, I want to be in show business, and I don’t know any other way than to start showing my business.”