Dance Candy, It Is Not
One of my most embarrassing secret shames is the teen dance movie genre. I don’t actually like any of them, but I always admire the choreography. They are formulaic donkey pablum, but I’ve yet to see one of those movies where the final dance-off scene hasn’t impressed me just a little bit. Step Up 2: The Streets, for instance, is absolute fucking garbage — the script was clearly written by half-brained 12-year-old girl hopped up on Ritalin and Robert Mark Kamen prose. It’s appalling, but hell if that final dance number didn’t reach my inner 13-year-old fist pumper (here’s a bad quality video of it):
That is fluid, y’all. It is. Sick.And just because I like a higher class of movie doesn’t mean I can’t respect those moves.
Anyway: Fame: The Remake. Here’s the problem: It’s not that they’re remaking Fame. Really, who gives a shit? The last person that gave a damn about Irene Cara was my dead gay father (what happened to her, anyway?). It’s been nearly 30 years since the original, and while I doubt anyone is clamoring for a remake, it’s kind of hard to get worked up about it. The problem is that, at least from the looks of the new trailer, it focuses too much on the terrible, hackneyed, poorly written characters and their story lines, and not enough on what really matters here: The dancing. And from all the evidence they’ve put forth so far, not even the dancing can redeem it. There’s not enough street in it. No midriffs. Or props. Or whatever it is that makes these urban dance movies compelling dance candy. It just looks dull. And jesus: Those kids are way too goddamn wholesome.
Here, see for yourself: