A few blog entries back, I made my feelings known about what seems to be the popular new past time in Hollywood – remaking and rebooting everything under the sun. I thought for sure they’d hit rock bottom with the remake of Footloose (and it’s beloved soundtrack).
I was wrong.
Recently, it has been announced that the powers that be in Tinseltown have decided to continue their blasphemous campaign by daring to take on the 1987 classic Dirty Dancing.
And here I thought they learned their lesson with the colossal flop, Dirty Dancing – Havana Nights.
Again – I was wrong.
For those of you who were not a frizzy haired, big toothed, homely teenaged girl with a unibrow in 1987, you may be asking yourself why on earth would anyone get their panties in a bunch over this nonsense. It’s just a movie. A stupid movie at that.
Maybe it is a stupid movie by today’s standards, but in the context of the time and to the targeted audience, it was pure brilliance. In 1987, I was a frizzy haired, big toothed, homely fifteen year old girl (with a unibrow that defied imagination). I knew little of the world outside my safe and secure life on a military installation. The school year before, I’d moved from Germany and was lucky enough to have fallen in with an amazing group of kids just like me. All of us Air Force brats plopped down in the middle of nowhere Texas and left to fend for ourselves among the native population. To say that we suffered from culture shock would be a gross understatement. We were awkward, quirky and marched quite happily to the beat of our own drum. That year, and the following year, the group of us – five in all – spent a lot of time hanging out around our housing development, the SAFB library, the BX food court (don’t ask) and torturing our collective families by invading their peace – and their refrigerators. Bobbi’s mom had the best snackage by far, and that’s usually where we landed when we wanted to stay up all night and watch movies.
We had our list of usual suspects: The Outsiders, Top Gun, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Can’t Buy Me Love, St. Elmo’s Fire, The Breakfast Club, Back to the Future, Howard the Duck, Flashdance, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles…the list was endless. But our go-to movie, the flick everyone could agree on time after time was Dirty Dancing. What was it about this film that captivated us?
We could relate to it – at least on some level.
Here was this girl who was not so unlike ourselves – a little homely, a little awkward, striving to live up to her family’s expectation – the good girl; the apple of her father’s eye. She thinks she has it all figured out until in walks the over-confident, sizzling hot bad boy with a leather jacket slung carelessly over one shoulder.
She would never be the same.
And neither would we.
As we sat noshing on junk food in the dead of night, we were spellbound not only by the raw sexuality of this film (as is depicted in this scene), but also by the emotional journey these two characters took us on. It was a roller coaster ride. Scene after scene, we watched as this ordinary girl and trouble filled young man waged a war within themselves, struggling against their blossoming feelings and the confines of their prospective situations. It was a journey that saw them lay their souls bare, tested their budding trust in one another, and finally brought them together in a spectacular over the top dance sequence.
All set to a soundtrack that rivaled even that of my beloved American Graffiti.
What is there not to love about this movie?
Why must Hollywood make a mockery out of every coming of age film from my formative years?
Can they not just leave well enough alone?