BAD MOVIES THAT SHOULD BE SEEN (25 OF 100)

"Footloose" (1984), Dir: Herbert Ross

$8.2 million in Budget vs. $80,035,402 in Gross

Footloose is the quintessential bad movie, from plot, to story, to acting, and even to the culture status it somehow achieved. Who would have thought a little movie about the town that wouldn't allow dancing would become a joke that seemingly never gets old?

From its very literal opening, Footloose is simply laughable. The classic "Footloose" tune by Kenny Loggins starts playing to a montage of different feet dancing around while the credits roll... But really, with the title is Footloose, how literal does one have to be? Did the creative team sit around the boardroom table and agree "This movie needs to open with a bunch of feet dancing." The assumption must have been that we would see the images of the feet, hear the lyrics to the song, and magically put two and two together: "Hey! This movie's about dancing!" It's reassuring to know the good people at Paramount have that much faith in the audience's ability to interpret cinematic language... But opening with feet? If there's anything that looks worse than feet on camera, it's noses, so at least they didn't start the movie with 2 minutes and 20 seconds of noses... Ugh.

Kevin Bacon plays Ren McCormack, a teenager raised in Chicago. He's moved to a small conservative town to live with his aunt and uncle, only to realize that the one thing he loves most in the world - dancing to rock music - has been outlawed. Now, I'm not sure how the legal system in the fictional town of Beaumont works, but this always seemed a little strange to me. Yes, it's just a movie and set in a very oppressed town, but what appointed judge is really going to agree to outlaw dancing? "Your honor, the accused is charged with... dancing alone in his apartment." And, for that matter, would he actually send someone to jail for dancing? "What're you in for?" Dancing. "Hmm... See you in the shower, boy."

A fish out of water, Kevin Bacon befriends a local boy named Willard, portrayed by the late Chris Penn, who shows him around. The Baconator then meets a local religious girl named Ariel, who happens to be daughter to Reverend Shaw Moore (played by the brilliant John Lithgow) who put the ban on dancing in the first place. Now, let's get something straight: John Lithgow is fantastic in almost everything he does. In Footloose, he plays the crotchety old reverend as he should be played (and for a paycheck). However, Lithgow as an individual also has a great sense of humor. Ten years later, his character Dick Solomon unwittingly mocked The Reverend's speech from Footloose condemning rock music in 3rd Rock From The Sun. Anyone who can take their own career and parody it (that isn't Kevin Smith) deserves my respect.

That said, the biggest question that Footloose poses: Why Kevin Bacon? It's probably the role he is most recognized for, but seems completely out of place. When I was in high school, our English Media Teacher (an idiot) made us do a comparison between Footloose and Rebel Without a Cause, suggesting Kevin Bacon's character to be the modern James Dean... Now, even if this was even close to being true, does Kevin Bacon strike you as the handsome lead? I've never heard a female ever admit to be attracted to Kevin Bacon in my life and the first who does is very brave for doing so. Secondly, does Kevin Bacon strike you as a rebel? Prior to this film, the only basis of comparison would be 1982's Diner, where his character was a sh@#-disturber but not really a rebel. Thirdly, does Kevin Bacon strike you as a dancing machine? I had no idea punch-dancing was so big in Chicago. Even in the movie's most famous sequence where Bacon dances his anger away, Bacon admitted (in reality) to having two dance-doubles, a stunt-double, and a gymnastics-double, so Bacon didn't actually do any of the movie's dancing... he's just the face of it... and not exactly the prettiest either.

Finally, the silliest sequence and a direct reference to Rebel Without a Cause comes in the form of a chicken run with tractors. Comparing this (as I was forced to) with the chicken run scene in Rebel Without a Cause, the two are very similar, yes, except that a tractor is not a car. And since this race isn't toward the end of a cliff like in Rebel and instead towards each other, there isn't as much stakes. I suspect that's why they have the track "I Need a Hero" by Bonnie Tyler playing in the background the whole time, to add a little excitement to an utterly plodding chase sequence... and even then, it just looks more ridiculous than anything.

Not to be misinterpreted, these are all reasons you should see Footloose. The Baconator has gone on to be a respectable actor in my opinion, but his humble beginnings with Footloose shall remain his humble beginnings. He can laugh at it, so we should as well.

And for your viewing displeasure, Footloose's cringe-worthy climax.

 

MOVIE TROPES - DANCING RESOLVES EVERYTHING

 "MOVIES AND THE MYTH OF DANCING"

 
I like to dance. Lots of people like to dance. Men, women, children like to dance. But why do we dance? Is it the florid release of energy, the synchronized movement, or the fact that somehow a single dance number will solve all your worldly problems? Wait! What? That isn't true. I dance alone all time and I'm still balls-deep in debt! How come dancing doesn't make that go away? Have movies been lying to me about the awesome powers of dance my whole life?

Now I don't know where this trope came from, but I'd like to say 80s films like the John Hugh's classic The Breakfast Club. All those disenfranchised high school misfits went from hating each other to bonding over the course of a dance montage, becoming a harmonious unit... It's pretty cheesy, but beats the previous scene where they're all sitting around and f&$@ing crying.

But the myth of the star-studded dance number goes back further than that. One could say as far back as Old Hollywood with movies like Singin' In The Rain, which was a song-and-dance musical about performers in song-and-dance musicals. Typically with these films, the conflict would be resolved with a final dance number, stunning producers and sourpusses alike, marking the big payoff. But what never made sense to me about these films was how one particular dance number seemed to vanquish all dilemmas, but the dozens of others prior (even the more memorable ones) had no affect at all.

This same school of logic was reflected in the Oscar-Eating-Monster The Artist (which is actually a great movie) when the two leads managed to sway their old crotchety producer John Goodman with a starry dance number that would win the old lug's heart, but also serve as nice transition to the film's ending where the leads are on top of the world again.

But that's just something that happens in hokey musicals, right? There's a dance number and all's well that ends well? Not in every musical. West Side Story is an odd exception. In that movie (where all gangs dance and jump on top of each other when they fight) the characters are introduced as using their ability to dance to intimidate people, showing ownership over the neighborhood (but also being the daintiest gang ever). Tony, the leader of The Jets, gets murdered in street and no amount of dancing or singing brings him back. It's actually a surprisingly tragic ending to a musical and has no final dance number to cap things off. 

However, twenty years later, Danny Zuko and Sandy Olsen would do the leather-pants number at the end of Grease and give everyone the happy ending West Side Story never had. Gang feuds are resolved, classic conflicts are washed away, teen pregnancies were, um, gone suddenly, and there was even enough time for a big hooray-hooray before the credits rolled.

In some cases, the movie dance is just a coping mechanism and solves nothing. Take Alex Cox's gritty bio film Sid And Nancy for example. If you can actually stomach this piece of sh%# film, the climax is Sid Vicious stabbing Nancy Spungen to death in a testament to their toxic relationship, and Sid going to jail for being a woman-killer. Once Sid is released, he runs into some rapper kids on the street. They tell him not to not be "so stuck up" and dance with them. He does so, forgetting that he's a f&%$ing murderer for a second. Then a cab pulls up. The door opens and Nancy is inside, alive. Sid gets in and the two drive off into whatever crappy city they live in, excusing Sid of murdering this person and giving us the most condescending happy ending bull$%& I've ever seen... Now, this isn't a dance number per say, but it follows the trope that dancing makes everything okay, and in this case is used very manipulatively. God, I hate this movie so much. As the British would say, pure rubbish.

Personally, I thin dance numbers are their most effective when they cap off a movie in a way that words cannot. For example, Napoleon Dynamite's Jamiroquai dance number won Pedro the election. How? Doesn't matter. The final dance number of Chicago shows that Roxie and Velma have now joined forces and become bigger than they ever were alone. How in reality do a pair of murderesses get so famous? I don't know (ask Sid Vicious), but regardless we accept it.

Then you have a climax like the one to Little Miss Sunshine where it tries to show the family uniting in a way that most dialogue scenes leading up to this could not do. During Olive's semi-stripper dance, the family joins her on stage and supports when the crowd doesn't. Then they all get arrested, but as a family, together. Does that win them Little Miss Sunshine and absolve them of any crimes they have committed? No. Does that resolve their inner dysfunctions? Not really. Does it illustrate a connection that would otherwise be cheesy in words? Yes, it does. Does it make the audience feel good about themselves and laugh? Absolutely, which is exactly the point.

Perhaps the dance number is the comedy/musical answer to the action movie's final fist fight between between good and evil. Neither musicals or comedies usually have villains, so the movies themselves don't really have a visual outlet for what is usually a character's internal struggles. Perhaps the dance number is the answer for those particular genres... but then again, you also have endings like the big dance recital in Staying Alive and realize that sometimes dance numbers a punch in the face might be better.