While I’m happy to see any person of color in film with a story not centered on a glock or crack pipe, I have to ask just how many more dancing and stepping stories are we going to get? How She Move is the latest movie to serve you on the yard.
Here’s the plot:
So a chick from the hood attends some saddity private school until her parents squander her tuition money to pay for failed rehab stints for her strung out sister — leaving the child who can past a urine test back at PS #516. Along the way she discovers that you can dance your way out of the hood into the promised land. Sound familiar? I’m sure you all have been eagerly pop locking in anticipation all week for this.
The problem with these types of films – which I discussed with my friend – is that they’re totally unbelievable. As my friend eloquently put it: “I can’t sit through a movie where people get killed at step shows; that’s like some weird stuff! That’s like Mickey and Minnie Mouse running crystal meth at Disneyland.”
Or maybe as ridiculous as the Seven Dwarfs running a hoe house, Big Bird being straight, Nanny running a sweatshop in the Muppet Babies house, or Fraggle Rock being a crack house.
Are dance competitions this intense and violent? I had no idea people could get so mad over who did the snake better to the point where they’re ready to shoot to kill. I would think a thug is too busy doing runs to practice his break dancing so he can win a chance to meet Lil’ Kim.
I get that the films teach you valuable lessons about the importance of teamwork, patience, perseverance, and Wild ‘n’ out Wednesday, but can’t we pop lock and drop this genre already or do we need seven more step into stardom flicks? If so, let me know, because while it may be too late for me to jig to college, I can still grab my digital camera, hit the liquor store, and slide into the club so I can twirk out ideas for a screenplay.