Whether it’s due to Quebec’s low drinking age or last call at 3 a.m., for many out-of-towners, Montreal is the kind of city you come to for a wild weekend. That reputation is nothing new.
Back in the 1920s, when the United States introduced Prohibition, Americans flocked north to Montreal — dubbed ‘Sin City’ at the time — to do their drinking and their partying. A century later, the “Red-Light District” at the corner of Saint-Laurent and Sainte-Catherine still stands among the country’s top nightlife spots, despite many businesses coming and going.
And while the city has no shortage of strip bars and sex clubs (we even have strip karaoke), there may be something missing from Montreal’s erotic entertainment scene. A certain level of sophistication, let’s say.
That’s where the Wiggle Room comes in.
I’ve never really been one for strip clubs. The only times I’ve set foot in them were for a comedy show at Cafe Cleopatra and a quick drink at Amazones many moons ago. So when my significant other told me she wanted the after-dinner portion of her birthday party to be held at a burlesque bar, I genuinely had no idea what I was walking into.
The vibes
We arrived at the Wiggle Room, which bills itself as “Canada’s only burlesque cabaret,” around 7:30 on a Saturday night. Doors open at 7 and shows start at 8, so by the time we climbed a flight of old, dimly lit stairs off Saint-Laurent, people were already settling into their seats with drinks in hand. A hostess greeted us and showed us to our booth.
I later noticed that she also doubles as stage crew, collecting gloves, corsets and other discarded costume pieces between acts.
The club is easy to miss from the street, but once you’re inside, you’re transported into a small cabaret-style space built around a central stage. Seating wraps around it in a way that feels more like theatre than bar. You’re pretty close to the performers, no matter where you sit.
Lucky for us, we landed right in the front row.
We were there for Chicago night, with the whole show built around songs from the hit musical. Three burlesque performers took the stage across the evening, with host and club owner Frenchy Jones filling the time between acts. Each of the ladies performed twice, with one doubling as a go-go dancer, giving the night six total routines.
One leaned heavily into classic glamour. Another played up the humour and exaggerated expressions. The third blended both, leaning into the drama of the music before flipping it into something cheeky.
The club was founded back in 2013, but it feels much older than that (in a good way). Maybe the show’s theme had something to do with it, but at certain points, I felt like I had been transported to a scene straight out of The Great Gatsby. And as someone who likes to glamourize the past, I wasn’t complaining.
Not a strip club
If you’re expecting a traditional Montreal strip club experience, this certainly isn’t it.
Yes, there is stripping. No, nobody goes fully nude. Everything stays covered with pasties, props or strategic costume pieces. The emphasis is on performance and tease. It’s more Moulin Rouge and less Chez Parée.
There’s also far more comedy than you might expect. Frenchy Jones keeps the room engaged between every act, roasting birthday guests, chatting with tables and setting the tone for whatever comes next. The dancers follow suit. Yes, the shock value is there, but it’s playful and built on dramatic pauses and over-the-top facial expressions rather than anything too dirty.
That said, if you were looking for a fun outing with your parents, this would still probably cross a few too many boundaries.
The performers don’t stay confined to the stage either. They sometimes step into the crowd, climb onto tables and incorporate willing guests into their routines. But before anyone gets too close to you, there’s always a check-in. Guests can request not to be touched, and that boundary is respected by all.
Even tipping has structure. Tips are actively encouraged throughout certain parts of the show, and when it’s time to slide a $5 bill (or more) into a garter belt or waistband, you’re invited up and guided through it. Nobody gets left standing there awkwardly.
With that said, you’ll probably want to have some cash handy or hit up the ATM nearby.
A different type of crowd
When you picture a bar where women take their clothes off, a clientele of rowdy, drunk men probably comes to mind. While I only got a small sample, it’s safe to say that’s not the case here.
The night we went, the crowd skewed heavily female. Groups were there celebrating birthdays, bachelorettes and anniversaries. There were couples of all orientations and friend groups from out of town who had clearly planned this as the main event of their evening. People were engaged. They cheered loudly, clapped and hollered after every routine, and even lined up to tip.
It also didn’t feel trashy. The whole production is very self-aware, silly at times and theatrical at others. But don’t get me wrong — the sexuality is still front and centre, but it’s framed as entertainment first.
The whole thing feels closer to a late-night comedy show than anything you’d find a few blocks down the strip.
The Cost
This was not exactly a cheap night out. Entry ran our group close to $40 per person, and drinks were priced to match. You’re paying cabaret prices, not dive bar prices. With tipping actively encouraged throughout the night, it’s easy to spend more than you planned.
That said, I later learned that tickets to weeknight shows can go for as low as $17 per person, which changes the math considerably. Either way, the structure makes it feel less like paying a cover to stand around in a bar and more like buying a ticket to an actual performance. For what you get, that framing feels fair.
Would I Go Back?
By the end of the evening, it felt less like I had gone to a strip club and more like I had attended a very unhinged Broadway show with audience participation. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s undoubtedly unique.
Would I go back? Probably not by myself, but maybe, with a group, on a themed night.
Montreal has never struggled with nightlife. The Wiggle Room just proves it can do it with a little more flair.
