This weekend, in between massages and book buying and adventuring, it seemed like any time I turned on the TV, there was some kind of dance movie on TV. Flashdance. Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights*. Center Stage.
Now I haven’t watched a tonne of dance movies it’s true. They’re not really my thing and as someone as tall and gangly as myself, they more often than not serve as a reminder of how uncoordinated I am. However, of the ones I have seen, I’ve noticed a continuous theme – there is always someone who is vehementally opposed to dancing and will, at all costs, try to stop the hero/heroine from breakin’ it down.
And the thing is, you’ve got to wonder what horrible psychological ordeal they must have gone through to be so traumatized at the thought of busting a move. Were they bullied by twirling ballerinas as a kid? Were their parents killed by a gang of rogue tapdancers? Did one of their siblings die a tragic softshoe related death? I mean seriously, what on Earth could have happened to them previously in their lives to make something as innocuous as dancing such a no-no?
It’s definitely something to think about the next time you watch Footloose. My suspicion is that John Lithgow wasn’t really against dancing so much as he was still smarting from the time he was mocked mercilessly for trying to do The Worm at a church party.
*I have only seen the last ten minutes of this and aside from the closing monologue (which is basically taken straight out of “What Not To Do When Writing A Script 101″), it really bugged me that they capped off the movie by dancing to a rap song. I mean was it not supposed to take place in 1958?