posted by Scene -- @ 4:30 PM

DANCING ABOUT “SAVE THE LAST DANCE”:

To butcher an old quote about music criticism*: Gleaning a deeper understanding of racial politics from “Save the Last Dance” is pretty much the same thing as dancing about racism. I don’t see how it could be done, it’s a pretty pointless thing to try to do, and even if you claim that you have done it, you will look pretty darn foolish claiming it. Unless of course you’re in grade two.

And as a movie for young people, “Save the Last Dance” does prove to be smarter and more entertaining than most others. The movie explores themes of being-your-self and racial integration. The main character, Sarah Johnson/Julia Stiles, is a former aspiring ballerina who moves in with her dad in the inner city after her mom has died in a car accident. There, she befriends Chenille Reynolds/Kerry Washington and falls in love with her brother Derek/Sean Patrick Thomas, who both teaches Sarah how to be down with blacks and hip-hop culture, and also helps motivate her to renew her pursuit of ballet.

The movie twists the premise of previous filmic explorations into racial relations, such as “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?”, and television shows such as The Jeffersons and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, by having the white character enter a black community instead of vice-versa. However, this seems less a result of progressiveness and more a symptom of trend, as all over America more and more white-teenage suburbanites draw influence from black hip-hop culture.

On the issue of purely visual representation, it is nice to see a young mixed-race couple on the big screen whose relationship is treated with honest emotion (unlike the previously mentioned “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner”). Stiles and Thomas share an on-screen chemistry that makes the relationship between their characters come alive—you could see these two dating in real life.

The messages of the story are clear: Be Yourself; You Can’t Help Whom You Love; Follow Your Heart; Racism is Bad; Why Can’t We Be Friends? Good messages overall, but also very simplistic. One can assume that since the movie is geared towards a younger audience the simplistic themes are not only warranted, but also appreciated. And it’s true—I wouldn’t expect a movie geared toward younger teenagers to fully explore the messy and complicated world of racial politics.

In one sequence, however, the film does hint that the simplistic message of “everybody should be nice to each other and get along” is not so cut and dry, or to put it bluntly, not so black and white. In a scene where Sarah vents to her friend Chenille about all the trouble she’s been getting from blacks for dating Derek, Chenille explains why black women might be mad at white women for dating black men—and the reasons, while certainly not just, are also not easily categorized as racist. Sarah doesn’t need to let Chenille’s comments affect her relationship, but she should at least understand why Chenille makes such comments.

Sarah, however, dismisses what Chenille says, and later in the film Chenille herself retracts her statements, saying she was “tripping” and imposing issues from her own love-life onto that of Derek’s and Sarah’s. It is sad to see such a complex issue touched upon and then dismissed so easily.

Another issue that is touched upon but only with kid gloves is the stereotype of the angry, young black gangsta/criminal. Derek’s best friend is the angry pitbull in baggy pants named Malakai (played by typecasted rapper Fredro Starr). Malakai represents Derek’s possible other future: entrenched in the gang life, heading either for a life in jail or a tragic death. Derek repeatedly tries to get Malakai to leave gang-banging behind. He tells Malakai (and Sarah, when defending his friend) that he is smart, and that he can do whatever he wants with his life. Malakai, though, is too enamored by his thug life to leave it.

While Derek repeatedly tells the audience and characters that he and Malakai are the same: young, from the street, smart and with a promising future ahead of them, the film itself presents Malakai as nothing other than a racial stereotype. We are told that Malakai is smart and good-natured, but all the film shows of him is him smacking hoes, beating-up rival gangstas, threatening white people and calling them “crackas”, and claiming that violence and pain is “the black man’s life”.

The film’s message could have been much stronger if Malakai had been portrayed (and not just described) as a real character. Instead of deconstructing the prejudicial stereotype of the Dangerous Black Thug, the film reinforces it. Malakai’s fall from grace would have been much more tragic and revelatory had he actually shown some promise. Rapper Tupac, from whom much of pop-culture’s fascination with “thug life” derives from, was a much more interesting prototype: a gangsta who glorified violence and the streets, but who was still intelligent and human, able to feel pain and sorrow, and able to lament and contemplate the path his life was taking, the role he played in society, and the role society played in his life. Up against the man who created the stereotype he was carved from, Malakai proves to be nothing more than just that: a stereotype.

And so, “Save the Last Dance” proves to be an entertaining movie about being yourself and following your heart. And if it aspired to be just that, it would have been a fine film for young audiences. Unfortunately, the film tries to reach into more complex and controversial grounds, and then betrays itself by offering only simplistic answers and even simpler stereotypes. To return to the dancing metaphor, this Last Dance proves to be something of a conga line: suggestive of something much more subversive and controversial, but in the end it’s all about towing the line.

*Writing about music is like dancing about architecture. It’s a really stupid thing to want to do.
-Elvis Costello

-J.