Dirty Dancing (1987)

reviewed by
Ken Perlow


                              DIRTY DANCING
                       A film review by Ken Perlow
                        Copyright 1987 Ken Perlow

Based on the previews, you probably wouldn't go see DIRTY DANCING unless you're either bored out of your skull or under 16. And you'd miss a real gem. I was curious because the screenplay was written by a woman, and this is pretty rare for the usual LA-LA fare. (I had visions of my delight at ROMANCING THE STONE--for once a heroine not made of perfumed cardboard.)

I was expecting SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER. But what I saw was a tight, emotional, well-told story of a fall from innocence. With real people. It's the summer of '63, the the twilight of the Camelot days. If this is a movie for kiddies, they'll never understand that special time. With Kennedy's death and then into Vietnam, we all grew up in a hurry.

Interestingly, as with ROMANCING THE STONE, it's the male characters who are a bit stereotypical. The male lead (one of these days I'll remember names of actors, directors, et al. and write *real* reviews) is a classic "noble savage" right out of Rousseau, but you want to believe it anyway. There's also a slimy, effete twit who justifies his arrogance in a marvelous scene where he pulls a copy of THE FOUNTAINHEAD out of his pocket and tells the female lead, "It's all in here. I've made notes in the margins."

Ah, Jennifer Grey. She did a first-class, remarkably subtle job on a part that begs to be overacted. And can she dance or what?

No great piece of cinema, but a damn good movie. I'd give it a solid 2 stars on the Leeper Scale. The Ayn Rand-trashing scene alone is worth the price of evening admission.

ken perlow
(312)979-8042
ihnp4!ihlpa!gadfly

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