Dance Flick Review: So You Think You Can Spoof?

August 18, 2009 by  
Filed under - Home, Film Reviews

DANCE FLICK: On General Release Friday 21st August 2009

If you’re even reading this review with the curiosity of potentially paying money to see this movie, then you’re lost to me already.

That studios and audiences can still support and lend validity to the Wayans Bros as a credible comedic force is up there with crop circles, Deism and Kerry Katona’s existence as one of life’s great unanswerable questions (some would argue the third would prove the non-existence of the second).

Still, the last few ‘Insert-Genre Movies’ have been curiously devoid of the direct Wayans influence (they jumped ship after Scary Movie 2 to create the mind-violatingly horrific White Chicks), so whatever foolishly naive and hopeful ‘reasoned’ part of my brain still existed meant I hadn’t written Dance Flick off entirely.

Well, I’m a gullible moron, because Dance Flick is worse than Epic/Date/Scary/Disaster Movie, necrophilia and gargling your own vomit rolled together.

The threadbare plot holding each skit together finds whiter-than-white, prim ballet reject Megan White (Bush) head to the inner-city Musical High. She soon becomes involved with nerdy, ‘blacker than black’ ghetto boy Thomas (Wayans, Jr) and his crew, who are indebted to a gang lord that makes Biggie Smalls look like Gok Kwan. Soon enough, they all realize that the key to overcoming all life’s obstacles is to express themselves through the medium of spoof dance.

Even if you’re a fan of the ‘Dirty Dancing In Da Hood’ genre, it’s obvious to see how easy it would be to parody, which is why it’s even more frustrating that Dance Flick fires more blanks than Stevie Wonder at a driving range. After a vasectomy.

High School Musical, Bring It On, Step Up, Save the Last Dance and Stomp the Yard are just some of the recent tween favourties that are spoofed in laborious scattergun succession, but it’s all so bawdry and gag-free you could have the exact same experience by sticking the original movie and your genitals into the DVD tray, and then smearing cat faeces into your eyes.

You’d probably have more of a laugh too.

On the plus side, Dance Flick appears to sound the death knell for the noughties’ spoof comeback. That laughs can’t be drawn from that most targetable of genres is a demoralising, time-wasting and utterly obvious sign that the Wayans’ series of diminshing reinventions are destined for the celluloid graveyard.

Bugger global warming and screw politicians’ expenses.

Humanity should come together for a more daunting, morality-threatening and socially conscious issue. Stop the Wayans Brothers.

If we work together we can really do it.

Vote with your wallets, think of Airplane and end this cruelty to spoofs.


Matt Risley

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