Janine Lindemulder in Confessions of a Lap Dancer (1997)

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Being a priest could be a hot job if the white-collared, skirt-wearing cleric’s only duties were to sit alone in a darkened booth all day listening to the Confessions of a Lap Dancer (1997). What might this cloistered auditor hear? How about a litany that includes realistic but simulated sexual activity, enthusiastic and energetic erotic dancing, a well-meaning woman’s inadvertent slide from bodily display to bartering access to her booty, the onslaught of self-loathing and regret, and a contentious legal battle for custody of a cherished daughter. The priest, hearing all this decadence and anguish, can bestow absolution with confidence. The Confessions of a Lap Dancer are told in the manner of the grand Hollywood tradition, and a happy ending is all but guaranteed.