Shall We Dance?: Review By B. Alan Orange

Hell Mission Statement #41786: Shall We Dance?

A lot of people think this is a remake of Masayuki Suo’s Japanese film “Shall We Dance?” And, in a way, it is just that. Peter Chelsom’s new version is a very faithful adaptation that keeps the original’s inspiration and innovative story structure in tack. Peter’s westside project doesn’t bail on its unique Japanese esthetic. Never once bowing to the Hollywood conformist movement; this new “Shall We Dance?” refuses to resort to by-the-numbers extortionism. It’s good. Really very good. And unpredictable…

The one thing every single critic (besides myself) has failed to mention is that the original 1997 film is itself a remake…OF A FLINTSTONES EPISODE!

That’s right. The noticeably ripped-off plot is less obvious when a Japanese cast is applied to its storyline. Still, Suo’s often touted tour de force is nothing more than a big screen revision of The Flintstones’ Season One episode #16: Arthur Quarry’s Dance Class (available on DVD). Here is the synopsis as provided by www.tvtome.com:

Fred and Barney (in the case of this new film, Richard Gere and Stan Tucci) sign up for dance lessons at Arthur Quarry’s Dance Studio (Miss Mitzi’s Dance Studio) so that they do not humiliate themselves at the charity ball (so they can fulfill a void and strive off that midlife crisis). Their excuse that they have joined a volunteer fire department (taken extra accounting work) falls apart when Betty and Wilma (Susan Sarandon) realize that the all-stone town is fireproof (smells perfume from a dance partner on his shirt). The wives then suspect that their husbands are slipping out to meet other women and hire a detective to set things straight (which is exactly what happens here.)

The fat black guy even steals some of Fred’s moves.

So, there you have it. Proof that you can make not one…But Two! TWO! Movies based on the basic outline of an animated sit-com from the late Sixties. Amazing, I know. Now that this quaint narrative has been brought back to our American shores, the comparisons are even more noticeable. Luckily, both films shimmy around the circle like clockwork. This Richard Gere character piece does more to pay its respects to the Hanna-Barbera cartoon than the two live-action Flintstone pictures ever did.

Hell, Warren Foster, original episode #16 scribe, should get a writing credit here. F*ckers. Respect is needed, and I’m going to fact check that sh*t for anyone willing to listen right now.

Yes. To say the least…

It’s a very peculiar weekend at the Maitreyaplex. In one theater, you can sit and watch Susan Sarandon get unmercifully dropped out a window and sent to her demise. It’s a high dive into concrete. Then, her longtime live-in boyfriend, Tim Robbins, has his head set on fire. Right next door, Sarandon gives us one of her most intimate, artistic, and unique turns starring as a faithful wife unsure of her own husband’s fidelity. Personally, I highly recommend both endeavors. Back-to-Back if you must. First, generalize yourself with how much you want that bitch to shut-up by watching Team America. Then observe and realize she really is a very good actress by watching “Shall We Dance?”.

That’s right. I loved “Shall We Dance?”, and Sarandon’s performance in it. I didn’t want to like it. Bah, another romantic comedy? Who needs it? Not me. I was thrown and locked in that screening room by myself. I couldn’t get out. I failed to really identify with these people on screen. Though, I didn’t really want to know them, either. I had been unmercifully forced into a glass case relationship. Richard Gere took me and brought me along on this weird little journey of his, and…Surprise, I enjoyed it.

Sure, he’s a happily married father. And I don’t really want to know about his loss of hope and heart because, on the outside, he seemingly has everything. He's the type of guy you could grow jealous of for all the obvious reasons. You almost want to hate him, but as the film progresses, a bit of humanity is squeezed from the screen. And the rather quaint gift he receives achieved its goal by bringing a bit of reluctant joy into my viewing experience.

Still, as Team America proves, it’s sometimes hard to separate our own personal feelings towards an individual and the characters they happen to be playing in any given film. I had to deliberately differentiate the specific personas of Richard Gere and his John Clark. The same goes for Susan Sarandon and her loyal wife guise of Beverly Clark. I had to readjust my preconceived reactions to their real-life self-imposed public speeches, especially here in this tepid Electoral climate of ours, and overlook their Political posturing. Doing so is a massive struggle, but in watching this film, I decided to view their capable artistry and put their personal lives aside. Others (like my Mom and Carl Kneimoller) may have a harder time doing that, what with November 2nd and every doe eyed act-ivist-or in a Kerry shirt breathing down the back of our necks.

Let’s face it; I, as well as the majority of the audience members in attendance, enjoyed watching Sarandon’s World Police puppet meet her untimely demise. Why? Because it represents this huge collective of worker bees screaming, “Keep your mouth shut and act!” It’s a cry from a knowing public reflected in the swinging fists of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

Shall We Dance?’s cast is an unobtainable uphill climb. Every member is tainted. Susan Sarandon is undisputedly too political on behalf of herself to the point where no one wants to even look at her wrinkled face anymore. Too many people, that I know, just can’t stomach her. Richard Gere has gone a step too far by constantly preaching his stupid, stated views into a microphone. And Jennifer Lopez? God, I don’t even need to tell you why she’s box office poison. Hers is less an unwanted political stance than just the fact that her face value went sour about six months ago. Her milk was left open and exploited past the expiration date in too many faux-entertainment news magazines to even name. (As David Cross once said, “Entertainment news…It’s neither entertainment nor news.”)

All I can say to you is, “Please, forget their public personas and just go. Enjoy the characterizations they have crafted here. And the story that utilizes them. It’s one of the better films of the year, and I think you’ll enjoy it. I’m not gay, nor female, and I dug the sh*t out of its insides.”

(Maybe I like it so much because that Flintstones episode has been imprinted on my brain since I was three.)

If for no other reason, I recommend this film for the two detectives that are hired to spy on Gere and check out what he is doing (which would not be dancing, but taking his last two films and slapping them together to create this. Yes, Shall We Dance? is equal parts Chicago and Unfaithful almost to a fault.) Richard Jenkins and, especially, Nick Cannon, steal the show. They come into the picture unexpectedly, and provide a fresh take on the gumshoe subplot. They are awesome.

Jenny Lopez, on the other hand, is hardly in the film at all. She’s absent from a whole hell of a lot of screen time. Some may think that’s a good thing, as this is merely an extended cameo. We think there might be a romantic liaison between her and Gere, but we’d be wrong. She mearly acts as his muse. She is soft spoken, and doesn’t ever really say too much. She is reserved, and quiet. This is one of her best turns in front of the camera, and it’s only at an inch or so wide.

Shall We Dance? came as an unexpected treat. I didn’t want to watch it. I didn’t want to like it. But it pulled me in, and I feel better for having wallowed in its redolent ways.

I think you’ll like it too.

But sh*t, I don’t give two f*cks and a fork covered in spaghetti sauce if you see it or not, and that’s the honest truth.

No. Actually, I do care. I want all of you to see this. It’s the perfect antithesis to the other films opening this week, despite what other critics may say. Believe me, I'm the only one you can really trust.

Okay...That's a lie.