Day 30 - Footloose (1984)

As the 31 Days Challenge has drawn on, I'm ashamed to admit I've become increasingly cavalier in my attitude to finding material to cover. I started out with a whole week planned out, and spent ages tracking down just the right films to fulfil my self-imposed restrictions. By this point? If it's on TV before 10pm and draws less than about a seven on the IMDB, it's probably fair game.

That said, when I saw Footloose on the TV schedules yesterday I initially discounted it. I mean, everybody loves Footloose, don't they? Not me, admittedly, because I'd never actually seen it, but it's one of those movies that seems to have woven itself into the fabric of history, not exactly in a cult movie sort of way, but by becoming part of a shared cultural idiom. Everybody remembers it's set in a town where rock and roll is banned, everybody knows that it's about Kevin Bacon's dancing teenager versus John Lithgow's uptight preacher, and everybody recognises the opening sequence with the tapping feet. I, on the other hand, knew of it, knew it would annoy me, and knew, without looking, that it was one of those films like the original Star Wars trilogy that had an inexplicably high IMDB rating because all the people rating it were clearly idiots. 

Pickings were slim, though, so I went and looked anyway. 6.4? Damn, nope, couldn't dismiss it on grounds of unwarranted popularity, particularly given that the critic reviews seemed to be equally lukewarm. I gritted my teeth, apologised to my other half and settled in for what I was sure would be another long hard slog.

The good

All my life I've loved films, and all my life I've loved to read about them. What I'm less fond of, however, is surprises, so before I watch a movie I tend to do my research, even if said movie is decades old and showing on a relatively obscure Freeview channel. It's fairly rare, therefore, for a film to confound my expectations.

Footloose, though? Blindsided me almost entirely. I was expecting annoying teenagers, heavy-handed moralising, casual sexism and John Lithgow hamming it up in the same way he would a year later in Santa Claus: The Movie. What I got, on the other hand, was a surprisingly even-handed drama that only occasionally slipped into cheap sensationalism. Granted, the teenagers were sometimes annoying, but isn't that what teenagers are for?

As Ren, Bacon makes for an engaging hero, not so much a rebel as a vaguely baffled advocate for his peers. Oh, and he really does have all the moves. Lithgow, meanwhile, delivers a far more measured performance than I had been expecting, making the Rev. Shaw Moore a surprisingly nuanced and even sympathetic antagonist. The supporting players are generally solid, too, with Chris Penn and a young Sarah Jessica Parker utterly delightful as best friends to the male and female lead respectively. Lori Singer, meanwhile, playing the Reverend's daughter Ariel, provides us with a complex, brave heroine.

Of course, the main thing you want from a film like this is big dance sequences and a happy ending. Beneath its flash, however, Footloose hides some surprisingly sound political credentials - an early scene, for instance, sees Ren challenging a rival not for calling him a pansy, but for the use of the word itself. This isn't a film where the female characters are treated as quota fillers or fashion accessories, either; both Ariel and her mother struggle with their own dreams and regrets, and it is this that lends the story its momentum. My only real complaint in this respect is that it does all look a tiny bit Aryan - no non-white faces here, and nobody who looks less than cover-model pretty.

The bad

There's not that much here to dislike, so I won't dwell. That said, and I can't believe I'm saying this, the film could actually have stood to be just a tiny bit shallower.

The problem is that the central premise - a town in the 1980s where music and dancing are banned - is such a ridiculous straw man, that it really requires backup by a proper pantomime villain. Shaw Moore fails to cut it not only because he's clearly crippled by grief and remorse, but, critically, because he's so quick to listen to reason when it comes from the people he loves. I know I'm quite vocal about films that revel in sadistic comeuppances, but by the end of Footloose I was actively rooting for Moore to find happiness. This is something I'd actually praise in a serious drama, but in a teenage dance flick? Convention demands the filthy killjoy bastard lands up spluttering in well-deserved humiliation, preferably whilst covered in something likely to incur a hefty dry-cleaning bill.

So, just so we're clear, careful with this one; it contains real, three-dimensional characters and traces of genuine sensitivity have been detected. You have been warned.

The verdict...

...Will be delivered once I've finished wiping the egg from my face. Footloose is far from perfect, but it has charm, a good heart and a  few absolutely great dance sequences. Leave Dirty Dancing in the corner (it's toxic, trust me on this) and bring this one back with you instead.