Footloose (2011)

"This is our time.”

The Story:

After the death of his mother, Boston native Ren McCormick (Kenny Wormald) moves down south to Bomont, Gerogia to live with his aunt and uncle. The culture shock is jarring enough, but it’s made even more so by the town’s ultra-conservative laws, which feature a ban on loud music, a mandatory curfew for teenagers, and an ordinance against dancing. These laws were put into place three years beforehand at the behest of the evangelical town preacher (Dennis Quaid), who finds himself personally at odds with Ren when the newcomer courts his daughter (Julianne Hough).

The Review:

This is a sneaky sort of remake in the sense that it seems to follow the original beat for beat, with wholesale exchanges of dialogue even being repeated (so much so that original writer Dean Pitchford is given a screenplay credit). However, director Craig Brewer scatters about some subtle changes that turn an already solid story of teenage romance and rebellion into an even better one. So often these revisits to old properties just smack of a studio trying to make bank off of a well-known property; I don’t doubt that Footloose started out that way, but nabbing Brewer seems to be an inspired choice because this feels like such a genuine attempt to deliver a really good teenager movie, which is something we need more of.

He succeeds thanks to some fine performances and the vigorous energy that he infuses to capture that youthful backbeat. Kenny Wormald is stepping into the Kevin Bacon role, but my mind went straight to Johnny Depp the more I saw of him; this is not to say that he’ll go on to have the same sort of career as Depp, but he’s almost a dead ringer for him. He’s also intensely cool and brash, but never abrasive; in a movie full of toe-tapping, his ability to straddle that line is quite impressive considering he’s spent much of his career as a background dancer so far. Ren once again gets paired up with a hayseed buddy, and this time it’s fellow newcomer Miles Teller, who is very funny and charming in a bumpkin sort of way.

Rounding out the teenage trio is Hough, who likewise is known more for her singing and dancing career more so than acting; however, she turns in a fine performance as Ariel, the preacher’s daughter who is one of those tough southern gals, a totally sexy firecracker; however, she’s also carrying a lot of emotional baggage due to her brother’s death and her father’s subsequent zealotry. In this version, she finds a kindred spirit in Ren, who is carrying similar trauma, and this is one of those tiny changes that absolutely works; I feel like the original Footloose comes dangerously close to being more about Ariel than Ren, but this one keeps them in balance, and their eventual romance flourishes because of it. 

Her transformation is especially interesting to watch; she begins the film as a floozy who has no problems being her creepy boyfriend’s “rebel child;” you’d probably refer to her as smoking hot, and you’d be right. But by the time she becomes Ren’s date for the prom, she’s truly beautiful and elegant, a visual representation of one of the film’s main points: if you give kids a chance, they won’t disappoint. Her father finally gets a daughter he can be really proud of once he lets her be herself (super trite stuff, but believe me, it works).

The adult component is somewhat similar to the original in the sense that this isn’t a one-dimensional tale where the adults are absolute bad people. Quaid’s Shaw is an interesting “villain” in the same way Lithgow’s was in that we can almost relate to him. He gets an early scene (whereas Lithgow didn’t) where he delivers a eulogy for the dead kids, and it’s almost heartbreaking. He’s completely broken, and Quaid carries that throughout the rest of the film, as Shaw is almost pitiful; he‘s rightfully stern and authoritative, but not a terrible guy. One of the better additions is Ray McKinnon as Ren’s uncle Wes, another downhome southerner who represents the first real father figure in his nephew’s life. Instead of being yet another adult figure to clash with, he’s supportive and understanding; he’s the guy who reminds the town judge that they weren’t much different when they used to bomb down the road blasting Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Removing the story from the stuffy Midwest and resituating it in the folksy south is pretty inspired; as a native, I can say that no region clings so desperately to quaint Americana like we do. The film nails this, right down to the retro drive-in and diner that’s lined with posters for old 50s B-movies. There’s certainly a sense of nostalgia and resist of progress found in Bomont; early in the film, Shaw gives a sermon intoning good old fashion values of family and friends in a world that’s being overrun by the internet and television. Even the nation’s recent economic downturn is referenced a few times. This is of course a golden age fallacy, which is exactly what every generation of teenager has to contend with--the insistence that their world is going to hell in a hand basket. Shaw certainly believes this, which is why he’s taken it upon himself to be guardian for the town’s youth population. 

Footloose truly excels when it presents the rebellion against all of this, as Brewer is perceptive of those timeless teenage qualities of angst and anxiety. He not only gets the dancing stuff right, but also the other great adolescent concern: automobiles, which have always represented freedom and independence for that age group. Ren’s first victory comes when he hastily manages to restore the old Volkswagon that his uncle gives to him, and he becomes the conquering hero by winning a high stakes race involving school busses (sadly, no game of tractor chicken this time). It’s all good old fashioned teenage movie stuff we’ve seen for years, and it’s totally slick and energetic here. 

The vitality isn’t lost when the characters hit the dance floor either, as the sequences are nicely choreographed and burst with liveliness. Whereas the original often felt like a drama punctuated by music videos, this take organically integrates the dancing--there’s a real connection between the characters’ emotions and their dance numbers, so much so that Footloose borders on becoming a musical. One of the best examples is the new take on the famous sequence from the original where Bacon let off some steam in an empty warehouse. Wormald gets to do the same thing, only the dance is less graceful and somehow more raw, and you can feel his rage in each step.

The word I keep coming back to here is “genuine.” While this take on Footloose is sometimes every bit as obvious as the original, it somehow feels less pandering and pedantic. Instead, Brewer has crafted a sleek tale that captures the adolescent spirit with both heart and rhythm. This may be a story that we’ve seen before, but it still manages to be entertaining and fresh. I find it interesting that it bows in theaters the same week as Universal’s revisit of The Thing. Technically, the latter offers more of a deviation in terms of narrative, but it’s also a bit of a soulless imitation; if anything, Footloose has plenty of soul, even if it’s signing a familiar tune. You’ll probably be humming it as you exit the theaters because it’s pretty infectious and very well done. (Brett G.)

Tale of the Tape:

8 out of a possible 10 inches.

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