Illustrations by Lola Fleming and Ciarán Butler.
Connor Howlett (Film Editor)
The idea behind this Film Club is to pick a film that I think deserves more attention, and set my deputies and another TN2er the homework of watching it. They’ll then share their viewing experiences alongside mine. Ideally, we’ll all love my exquisite taste for cinema, and you’ll have four people recommending a film to you instead of just one. Or maybe you’ll never trust one of my reviews again.
My selection for the third edition of Film Club is a movie that I only saw for the first time very recently. Dirty Dancing (Emile Ardolino, 1987) is one of those films that generates dismay whenever you tell someone that you haven’t seen it, or maybe even extreme judgement if you’re a film student who is supposed to have seen everything that has ever been released. In the brief period when cinemas re-opened in Ireland, Dirty Dancing was re-released for its 30th anniversary (even though the film is celebrating its 33rd year according to my arts student-level numeracy), and I was delighted at the opportunity to finally watch this iconic film, especially in its intended venue.
Written by Eleanor Bergstein, Dirty Dancing is about Frances “Baby” Houseman (Jennifer Grey), who is spending the summer with her family at a resort in the Catskills. During her holidays, she meets saucy dance instructor, Johnny (Patrick Swayze), and sparks inevitably fly. There’s an instant erotic tension that develops between the two characters, primarily displayed through the intricate movements of their dancing, but is ultimately destined to find another means of physical expression beyond a boogie. It’s definitely the sexiest film I’ve seen in a very long time, and the chemistry between the two leads is undeniable, beaming from their dialogue and the choreography of their physical performances.
The film is known as a comfort film—one of those reassuring dramas that you put on to feel a little better about the world. Much needed in these troubled times. Yet, this assignation is remarkable considering that the plot features an illegal abortion for Penny (Cynthia Rhodes), Johnny’s dance partner and close friend. This is one of the reasons that Dirty Dancing towers above other steamy romances with great soundtracks. This aspect of the plot is treated with dignity and empathy, which is why it does not counteract the overall comforting tone of the narrative, yet it does not negate the necessity and importance of its inclusion either.
Another of the film’s great strengths is a critique of social prejudice that gives the film a modern-day sensibility for which many other films from the era are found to be lacking. Instead of just making some characters prejudiced and others not, Bergstein adds significant depth to her script by exploring the extent to which prejudice affects the different people within her story. As well as showing the extremely damaging effect that prejudice can have on someone’s life, it also interrogates the ability to move past prejudice when it is acknowledged. Both Baby and her father are revealed to have placed assumptions on certain characters and their life choices based on their way of life and what they look like. However, Baby does not change her treatment of those characters based on these assumptions, whereas her father actively chooses to treat them differently. Both examples of social prejudice are shown to be problematic and hurtful for those involved, but the extent to which characters are willing to acknowledge their own prejudice is a distinguishing factor in the film’s moral compass.
Not only a film to get you hot and bothered, channel your inner Swayze or Grey, or sing at your highest pitch to try to emulate Frankie Valli, Dirty Dancing emphasises the human capacity to choose to be a better person when you care enough about being one. And it reminds you just how sexy falling in love can be. Even if we’re unable to embrace real romance at the moment, at least we can fall head over heels with Johnny and Baby over and over again.
Savvy Hanna (Deputy Film Editor)
Dirty Dancing is often dismissed as a chick flick—a film made to appeal to women, typically with a focus on romance. And while a film should never be dismissed just because it was made for women, it’s easy to see why Dirty Dancing is put into that category—it’s the ultimate chick flick. Intelligent yet naive Baby, serving as an audience surrogate, falls in love with Johnny Castle, an exceptionally handsome and hardworking dance instructor with a tough exterior, a gentle soul, and effortlessly quiffed hair. Of course, nobody in real life could be as perfect as Johnny Castle (except, maybe, Patrick Swayze), and their love story plays out like a romantic fantasy with a perfect ending represented by the iconic climactic lift.
But Dirty Dancing is also so much more than a chick flick. The film has a strong political narrative hidden behind its love story, which puts it a step above any other chick flick and makes it an important film for everyone to watch. Underneath Baby and Johnny’s love story, the plot centres around an illegal abortion that Johnny’s dance partner Penny receives. The abortion and its aftermath are taken care of with empathy, even by those opposed to it, which is still a rare occurence in films even today. The abortion storyline is also integral to the film’s plot, as Penny’s abortion is the reason that Baby must become Johnny’s dance partner. This meant that the taboo topic of abortion could not be removed from the film, making Dirty Dancing an important film in the discussion of reproductive rights.
As well as the progressive social commentary marking the film as a feminist classic, the dance sequences, choreographed by Kenny Ortega, place Dirty Dancing as one of the greatest dance films of the 1980s, if not all time. Unlike other ‘80s dance films, such as Flashdance (Adrian Lyne, 1983) and Footloose (Herbert Ross, 1984), Dirty Dancing did not use body doubles for the dance scenes. Swayze’s formal dance training allowed for an authentic performance through both the acting and dancing. Having the actors perform the choreography meant that character and relationship development could continue during the dance sequences—particularly important for Baby and Johnny’s relationship, which is formed and solidified through their dances.
The film’s memorable soundtrack contains a mixture of early ‘60s songs, matching the time period the film is set in, and songs written specifically for the soundtrack, including Swayze’s own song ‘She’s Like the Wind’ and the iconic ‘(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life’ by Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes. Over 30 years after the film’s release, the entire soundtrack provides a great sense of nostalgia, whether you grew up in these eras or not.
There have been attempts to recreate the magic of Dirty Dancing—its success spawned a musical stage adaptation, a prequel set in Cuba, and a television film remake, as well as endless references and parodies in other films and television shows—but nothing can match the appeal, and impact, of the original film.
James McCleary (Deputy Film Editor)
I suspect I’m a bit late to the party on this one, having never seen Dirty Dancing until just under a week ago. I knew all the songs, with each now being intrinsically linked to the film in popular culture, and I knew all about Patrick Swayze’s aggressively anachronistic, though admittedly very stylish mullet, but that was about the extent of it.
It goes without saying then, for those who have seen the film, that I was hooked on its oddball, surprisingly self-aware charms within minutes. The opening narration describing the Summer of ’63 as a time before, in equal measure, JFK’s assassination and the arrival of the Beatles is an all-timer as far as table-setting exposition is concerned. This playful clash of big-picture importance and artistic expression is sustained as the film introduces us to some of the Kellerman’s most memorable inhabitants, from ludicrously wealthy and entitled moustache-twirler Neil (Lonny Price) to Billy (Neal Jones), a staff member perpetually destined to serve as unaspiring sidekick to just about anyone he meets, though he knows the best spots to dance. These two characters, both introduced within the first few minutes, perfectly encapsulate the surprisingly committed endeavour of Dirty Dancing to explore class divides in an upper class societal bubble.
There is something thrilling about Dirty Dancing’s satirical flourishes as it delves deeper into the space between these two distinctly different, but comprehensively constructed realms. When Baby dances with Neil at the behest of their fathers, they sway alongside two young children, a boy and a girl. Baby doesn’t appear to see the difference. Later in the same scene, as Baby watches Johnny from the confinements of her assigned partner, she is called up on stage and literally cut in half by a hired magician. It is utterly ridiculous, but the film’s assured central performances and breathtaking choreography do sell us on the preposterous caricatures at both ends of the resort. The suffocating obedience of Baby’s social circles are at constant war with the cathartic liberty promised by Johnny and Billy, not only in how each performer expresses themselves on the dance floor, but also in their faces as they transform utterly in composure and cadence depending on their screen partners.
It was for these reasons that my disappointment with the film’s second half, once I realised that the film intended to all but abandon this dynamic, hit all the harder. Once Johnny and Baby finally break the tension after a successful performance, the themes of duality vanish in a puff of smoke, replaced only with moony-eyed montages and patriarchal melodrama. Baby and Johnny’s rapport is so unconditional as to bore, leaving only the relationship between Baby and her classist father Jake (Jerry Orbach) to bear the film’s dramatic load. In one scene, Johnny goes so far as to insist that he is attracted to Baby precisely because she isn’t like anyone else in the upper class realm due to her rebellious bravery, though it was precisely the lines that separated them which made the film’s opening beats so compelling.
I loved a lot of things about Dirty Dancing. At its best, the film hit that sweet spot middle-ground between stylish and goofy that always does the trick for me, and while I am well aware that mainstream romcoms in the late 1980s weren’t necessarily always afforded the same flexibility as their contemporary counterparts, I was nonetheless left wishing that the story could have kept a tighter grip on its most interesting threads.
Shane Murphy (Literature Editor)
Dirty Dancing is an immaculate romantic drama, in the way it is perfectly loyal to its genre. My amateur understanding of the romantic drama is a cast of handsome people featuring in a plot so perfectly curved that it slightly steers itself towards danger before returning to the safe middle-of-the-road narrative. This is less of a critique and more of an acknowledgement of a form difficult to do well. Dirty Dancing does it exquisitely.
As frothy as the film is at times, its true substance for me is the film’s costuming. I found the costume designer’s use of sixty’s clothing to create atmosphere and develop the narrative to be impressive. I was so engrossed by the costuming that the one time I took out my phone was to Google who was the costume coordinator. It was Hilary Rosenfeld. Character development through costume is most detailed in the outfits of Frances, who goes from hiding herself underneath thick slouchy cardigans to leotards and shorts, representing her connection to, and pride of, her body. This astute costuming showed me that the film wants to explore adolescence and the relationships young people have with their bodies; how they are connected and disconnected from their bodies; how they express and suppress themselves; who they show their naked selves to for the first time; how they make decisions for their bodies.
The most affecting and memorable moment of the film ties together clothing and the body delicately. The plot is sparked when Penny decides to end her pregnancy. After this, Frances agrees to stand in for her at a dancing job taking place on the same night as Penny’s abortion. Days before Penny plans to have the abortion, she is fitting Frances into her old dress. Both are sharing their respective worries for the night ahead. Frances is tizzied by the thoughts of dancing perfectly while Penny is struggling to stay secure in her decision. It is a delicate and striking scene that operates on two levels. Firstly, as a formal suiting-up for Frances into the mantle of star dancer and secondly, as a moment of painful confusion and vulnerability for Penny, for a woman so connected to her body, her assurance momentarily lapses as she prepares Francis for the proverbial shoes she reluctantly stepped out from. The scene is beautiful and sobering.
This said, for its montages and music, the film is an easy watch but earns its audience with its foamy narrative and low stakes. I can understand why it is a comfort film for many. It is, to deploy the over-used phrase, feel-good. The iconic dirty dancing lift is one of the most popular references in pop culture, and the same could be said of the perking effect of watching the film: the Dirty Dancing lift.
Dirty Dancing is available to stream on Amazon Prime Video.
