DANCE WITH ME (Columbia) Starring: Vanessa L. Williams, Chayanne, Kris Kristofferson, Joan Plowright, Jane Krakowski. Screenplay: Daryl Matthews. Producers: Lauren C. Weissman, Randa Haines and Shinya Egawa. Director: Randa Haines. MPAA Rating: PG (profanity, mild sensuality) Running Time: 125 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
I know what you're probably thinking about DANCE WITH ME, because it's the same thing I was thinking. This would be nothing more than a bunch of dance sequences strung together by something that could only be called a plot if you were being particularly generous. Even the film's trailer, which featured about a dozen words in two minutes, contributed to the impression that DANCE WITH ME wouldn't be about characters, but about plastic wind-up dance toys masquerading as characters. Yes, the film's original title -- SHUT UP AND DANCE -- would certainly prove prescient.
I'll tell you what I wasn't expecting: one of the year's most appealing, charismatic performances. It comes courtesy of Chayanne, the Puerto Rican musical sensation who stars here as Rafael Infante, a young Cubano coming to Houston, Texas on a personal mission. After landing a job at the studio of dance teacher John Burnett (Kris Kristofferson), Rafael becomes interested in one of the pros who frequents the studio, Ruby Sinclair (Vanessa L. Williams). Ruby is an enigma to Rafael, since her fierce dedication to dancing doesn't seem to be connected to any real joy. As Rafael tries to re-introduce Ruby to the pure pleasure of dance, a tentative romance, naturally blossoms between them.
Simple stuff, to be sure -- perhaps even simplistic -- but DANCE WITH ME sells its simplicity almost entirely on the strength of Chayanne's appeal. Though it's certainly helpful that he's has boyish good looks and an inviting smile, his success can't be dismissed as purely hormonal. He has to anchor both of the film's big emotional hooks -- tentative attempts to connect with the father he has never known, and the romance with Williams -- in spite of a language barrier, which he does by acting with his face and body language as well as any young performer of the last several years. Chayanne has that intangible something called presence, something that gets you more involved in a simple story than the material probably deserves.
That presence is most forceful when he hits the dance floor in an exhilarating sequence at a Latin dance club. The sequence hinges on Rafael conveying to Ruby the pure joy of dance, and that joy explodes from his every movement. As obviously choreographed as some of the "spontaneous" moves in the club might be, it's still infectious to watch when Rafael seems to be having so much fun. He even manages to bring an unforced charm to the Gene Kelly dance steps he breaks into in the middle of a shower of lawn sprinklers. Anyone who can invoke SINGIN' IN THE RAIN without inspiring gasps at the sacrilege has to be doing something right.
He does so many things right, in fact, that the second half of DANCE WITH ME seems terribly wrong-headed when the focus abruptly shifts to Ruby's attempts to re-ignite her career at a Las Vegas dance competition, re-united with her former partner (Rick Valenzuela, playing a cartoonish macho egomaniac). First-time screenwriter Daryl Matthews (also the film's choreographer) makes the mistake of making Ruby's conflict central at a time in the narrative when there's already plenty of conflict to go around. Director Randa Haines, meanwhile, makes the mistake of spending too much time showing us the competition itself. If the point was to prove how much more exciting club dancing is than regimented competitive dancing, that point is made and made again for nearly half an hour, including ridiculous comic relief from Joan Plowright as a spunky geriatric. The solid chemistry between Williams and Chayanne is lost, the father-son relationship is buried and the dancing rapidly grows tiresome. Predictable though the story may have been, at least is was energetic. DANCE WITH ME decides to turn into a dance movie exactly when the dancing is least interesting, and after the hero has made his impression. His charisma makes much of the film watchable, until it reaches the point where, much to your disappointment, they make him and everyone else just shut up and dance.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 dance fevers: 6.
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