The problem with reviewing a film like Step Up is that it’s a dance film.
Not a musical, a dance film, a relatively modern phenomenon in which the storyline, acting, dialogue, cinematography, mise en scène and anything else Film Studies ‘A’ Level can teach you doesn’t matter in the slightest compared to the moves being busted. If you like dancing, the movie lives or dies on the strength of the routines. And as such, I am hopelessly biased.
I was painfully tempted to hand out a 4-star rating for Step Up’s strength in this department. My logic in doing so would’ve been, I think, pretty flawless; the dancing is 4-star calibre and if you’re a fan that’s all you care about. If you’re not a dance fan you’re in the wrong theatre (and you’re dead inside), so the rating’s irrelevant, right?
Well, no. I’ve got to be objective about this, cos a) I’m a professional and highly paid reviewer and b) I’ll get so much shit otherwise. Step Up is far from flawless. It’s more predictable than the quality of McFly’s next single, some of the verbal sparring is painfully laboured, and the decision to cast Usher clone (read: accomplished singer and dancer) Mario in an acting role is stunningly short-sighted. Basically, it’s a 2-star film with 4-star dancing. Hence, 3 stars.
Just to fill in the blanks, the story concerns 18-year-old (yeah right) Tyler Gage, a kid from the wrong side of the tracks going nowhere fast (does this sound familiar?) whose life of crime turns around when he’s ordered to perform community service at a school for the performing arts. There he meets senior ballerina Nora Clark (Dewan), who is not only highly accomplished and in sudden need of a new partner to practice with, but also insanely attractive – bizarre how often this happens. His hip-hop skills help her find a new direction within her dancing whilst his possible redemption sees him drift apart from best friend Mac (Radcliff) and his brother Skinny. So far, so Save the Last Dance… especially the film’s only shocking moment, which evokes the latter so starkly that it just feels tacked-on. Oh, and there are subplots concerning teen love, success, betrayal, maternal conflict and the compulsory gun crime, but don’t pretend you care. It’s really not necessary.
Fundamentally, what sets Step Up apart is that instead of Julia Stiles faking her way through simplistic routines, you’ve got the charismatic Channing Tatum and fellow face-to-watch Jenna Dewan, and by god do they make for impressive viewing. As per the template set by the mighty Dirty Dancing, all the storyline strands are building to a final dance-off, and Step Up packs one hell of a money shot. I don’t care if you’ve never danced a step in your life, if you’ve been dragged by an overenthusiastic other half, or if you’re a diehard Michael Flatley fan, this is breathtaking stuff. Step Up is a hugely uplifting film if you just turn off your brain and wait for the predictable plot to give way to the next big dance sequence. Don’t get carried away with notions such as how the power of friendship breaks down racial barriers, thus making this the perfect antidote to the depressing Crash. Like I did. It’s just a film with some great dancin’.