 |
|
|
|
|
Vanessa Williams has top billing and her character may once have been the focus of this footloose fantasy, but no longer. Chayanne, already a one-name superstar south of the border, just about mambos off with this shamelessly entertaining, albeit overlong and derivative, dramedy.
The screenplay, the first by the film's choreographer, Daryl Matthews, bears an uncanny resemblance to the delightful Australian comedy "Strictly Ballroom." In both films, the story revolves around an upcoming dance competition and the contestants' frantic missteps, romantic and choreographic, as the climactic dance-off draws nigh.
Here, Ruby (Williams), a highly disciplined dance instructor, gets in touch with her inner salsa thanks to Rafael (Chayanne), a hunky Cuban who does odd jobs at the faded Excelsior dance studio. Newly arrived in Houston, Rafael soon endears himself to the chorus line of studio regulars.
But Ruby, a single mother who has been abandoned by her lover and partner, seems immune to those big brown Bambi eyes, that glow-in-the-dark smile, those pert pectorals. She's obsessed with furthering her career by regaining the Latin Ballroom Dance Championship, this time with a new partner.
Clearly like Stella, Ruby has mislaid her groove. And just as clearly, the smitten Rafael is destined to help her get it back.
The dance of love, with its parries and feints, ensues, while a gaggle of charming eccentrics cheers from the sidelines: Joan Plowright as the game old dame, William Marquez as a bumbling egotist, Jane Krakowski as a nervous ingenue and Kris Kristofferson as the studio's unlikely owner.
The supporting cast also includes stars from the international ballroom community as well as many of the more accomplished regulars from L.A.'s salsa subculture. The hoofers may not steal the show, but they do stop it with their joyously executed response to the music of fiery salsa artists Albita and DLG (Dark Latin Groove). Sequins fly, booties shake and heart rates soar.
Williams, in her short, sequined samba wear with the lift-and-serve cleavage, joins the party, yet she never gets swept up in the music or the mood. So the calypso eye candy must dance alone.
And it still takes two to tango.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7uK3SoaCnn6Sku7G70q1lnKedZMSxedKrrWirpK65pnvLqKWgrJWnunC5zq%2Bgnqtfq7alsc6sZp2ZnpiyuLXToaSeo5Wiva2x2GefraU%3D