Movie Review: Dirty Dancing Havana Nights

Dirty Dancing Havana Nights

Directed by Guy Ferland

Written by Boaz Yakin

Starring Diego Luna, Romola Garai, Sela Ward, John Slattery, Jonathan Jackson, Mika Boorem

Release Date February 27th, 2004

Published February 27th, 2004

The dirty little secret of dancing is that sometimes it's just sex with your clothes on. If you don't believe me, go to a club or see Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights where a trip to a Cuban dance club is like Plato's Retreat with a dress code. It's where sweaty over the clothes humping stands in for dancing. Don't get me wrong I like sweaty over the clothes humping, especially with the attractive group of people in this movie. But in a mainstream movie being marketed to puritanical Americans based on the love of a semi-chaste American fairy tale, don't you think it's a little out of place?

The original Dirty Dancing is a camp-tastic melange of teenage wish fulfillment and cheeseball acting and dialogue. It's star Patrick Swayze was both alluring to it's teenage fanbase (and their mothers) and anathema to anyone with a brain. Jennifer Grey on the other hand with her smart smile and that unusual nose was the perfect stand in for every average teenage girl in the audience who never believed they could be pretty and get the guy.

In this new version the Jennifer Grey role is filled by Romola Garai, a beautiful woman who could never be mistaken for the average American teenager. Her miscasting is not the film’s biggest problem but one of many. Garai is Katey, 18 years old and preparing for college in the fall. On her way to Class Valedictorian and the perfect wasp fantasy of Radcliffe college in the 1950's, she is suddenly whisked away to Cuba where her father (John Slattery) has taken a promotion from the Ford Motor Company. He will make more money but the family must move to Cuba and Katey must finish her senior year away from her friends.

It's not all bad though, Cuba is lovely and warm and Katey quickly attracts the attention of James (Jonathan Jackson), who happens to the son of her Dad's boss. She couldn't care less about him, Katey is interested in the handsome young Cuban waiter Javier (Diego Luna). After being left behind at school and forced to walk home in the dangerous streets of Cuba, Katey encounters Javier dancing to street musicians with his friends. He offers to walk her home and the two fall into puppy love.

You know what happens next, dance contest, lie to parents, secret dance lessons, yada yada yada, but before we get to that there is a scene of such relatable, casual cruelty from our lead actress that you momentarily think you won't forgive her. On a date with James she suckers him into taking her to a club where Javier is dancing with his friends. Once there she drops James to dance with Javier, well... not exactly not more like the over the clothes humping I mentioned before. All of this while nice guy James is being intimidated by a group of locals espousing Fidel Castro's revolutionary politics that include throwing the white people off the island.

(On a side note the film is set in 1958 pre-Castro Cuba and despite it's teen appeal romance genre does try to evoke it's time and setting. Castro, Communism and revolution have no place in this pop entertainment and it's embarrassing to watch the filmmakers try and shoehorn it in.)

That scene is followed by another mind-blowing scene in which the screenwriters try to throw our sympathies back to Katey by turning James into a lecherous jerk. Then the James character is all but kicked out of the movie except that the rest of the plot turns on a decision he makes not to expose Katey and Javier’s relationship, something that would stop the film in it's track. This is a decision the character makes offscreen! Without any real motivation other than the plot needs it.!

There are yet more problems for Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, not least of which is the nostalgic inclusion of Patrick Swayze in a cameo as a nameless dance instructor. The Swayze still has the bronzed look, a tad withered now but according to my sister, still handsome. He's also still ridiculous and cannot deliver a line of his dance guru dialogue with inducing derisive laughter. Any melodramatic momentum the film generates immediately dissipates at his appearance as the entire audience reels back to remember Johnny Castle.

Another problem is the film’s soundtrack a combination of classic Latin rhythms and modern Latin infused pop. There are moments when the film’s dancing threatens to entertain you but then the producers throw in some modern radio friendly pop tune and you are reminded that this is not a movie but a sales pitch for a soundtrack album.

As for the stars, Garai is sadly miscast. She is pleasant and has an awkward comedic charm but she's no Jennifer Grey. Diego Luna, best known for his work in the remarkable Y Tu Mama Tambien, does well to dull his acting senses to the mindless melodramatics of the plot. He clearly out classes the material in front of him but does what he can to make it palatable. And he can dance.

What a surprise that this 81 minute three act crowd-pleaser was written by the master of manipulative fluff Boaz Yakin whose Remember The Titans is the single wimpiest sports movie ever. How any director could make Denzel Washington so bland is beyond me. But after seeing Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights and his last directorial effort, Uptown Girls, Yakin shows himself to be the master of bland.

Yakin did not direct Havana Nights, that thankless task went to Guy Ferland, a television veteran who knows how to send the audience home in less than sixty minutes. Here, extended beyond the confines of commercial breaks, he is at a loss to send anyone home happy. The films ending is one of the worst you will see this year, a sappy, sugary confection of forced goodwill that even a TV show would balk at.

What Havana Nights truly lacks is a good deal of camp. The original was not a good movie but it was absolutely howlingly funny in the kitsch sense. Honestly who can't say that famous Johnny Castle line "Nobody puts Baby in a corner" without at least a smile on your face. That is pure camp and it's what makes Dirty Dancing so memorable. It's why I bought the DVD. To sit around with friends on a Saturday night and go all Mystery Science Theater on Dirty Dancing is one of my all time favorite memories.

There will be no parties for Havana Nights, or really any memories for me at all of this movie beyond this review. And that is this film’s biggest failure.

Movie Review: The Terminal

The Terminal (2004) 

Directed by Steven Spielberg 

Written by Sacha Gervasi, Jeff Nathanson 

Starring Tom Hanks, Catherine Zeta Jones, Stanley Tucci, Chi McBride, Diego Luna, Zoe Saldana

Release Date June 18th, 2004 

Published June 17th, 2004 

I thought it was an urban legend. My brother and I were discussing the new Steven Spielberg/Tom Hanks flick The Terminal when he told me the story of Merhan Karimi Nasseri. Mr. Nasseri has spent the past 15 years in the international terminal of Charles De Gaulle Airport in France after his bag was stolen with all of his identification.

The Iranian born Mr. Nasseri has lived off the kindness of the airport staff for 15 years, has inspired 2 documentaries and a French film called Tombes Du Ciel or Lost In Transit starring the legendary Jean Rochefort. Now Mr. Nasseri is a getting a big time American treatment from Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. Sadly, this trifle of a film is exposed for it’s light as featheriness by the dramatic true story on which it is loosely based.

In The Terminal, Tom Hanks is Viktor Navorsky who has come to New York City from his Eastern block home of Krakozhia. Unfortunately while Mr. Navorsky was flying to America, Krakozhia plunged into civil war and the government dissipated. Now in America, Mr. Navorsky is a man without a country, his Visa is invalid because the U.S government can’t recognize a ruling power in Krakozhia. Until the war ends and a new government is established, Viktor must remain in the airport terminal.

Breaking the bad news to Viktor is the not so kindly head of the airport’s Homeland Security Office Frank Dixon (Stanley Tucci). It is Frank who could find away to really help Viktor but instead strands him with bureaucratic red tape and then takes a sadistic interest in preventing Viktor from making the most of his desperate situation.

Stuck in the International terminal, that looks more like a mall than an airport thanks to the numerous real brand name stores, Viktor waits and involves himself in the lives of the airport staff. There is Diego Luna as a food delivery worker who trades Viktor free food in exchange for Viktor’s help in romancing an INS Agent played by Zoë Saldana. Although Viktor knows he can’t leave, he visits the INS office every day to have his passport declined.

Chi McBride is a baggage handler with a soft spot for late night card games. He sees Viktor as a soft mark for poker games but soon becomes a real friend. And then there is the janitor, an Indian man played by Kumar Pallana, a lovable oddball with a secret past. Pallana provides the biggest laughs of the film and none of them at his expense.

Finally, there is Catherine Zeta Jones as Amelia, a flight attendant who takes a shine to Viktor but can’t get involved because she is hopelessly involved with a married man played briefly by Michael Nouri. While she tries to resist the urge to be with the married man, Amelia and Viktor come close to romance until the plot conspires to split them.

Despite the film’s dramatic underpinnings, everything is kept very light and airy. In fact, it’s so light that it floats off the screen and almost immediately from your memory. Tom Hanks, arguably our most talented actor, here plays a sort of lovable puppy of a character whose moral fiber is so unquestionable, he is too good to be true. There is nothing wrong with a character that is virtuous but Viktor is Touched By An Angel good. Maybe that explains why Stanley Tucci's officious bureaucrat hates him so much anyone this perfect would eventually get on your nerves. Still, Tucci is too evil to be true until the plot calls for him to look the other way.

Too good to be true describes most of The Terminal which suffers from a script full of contrivances. Viktor quickly learns English, lucks into the food deal with Diego, lucks into a job working construction in the terminal and in typical forced romantic comedy fashion, he has a meet-cute with Amelia that becomes a running gag.

I have been quite hard on The Terminal to this point so I should point out that their are a number of good things about the film. Steven Spielberg's direction is typically strong in its structure and look. Cinematographer Janusz Kaminsky relishes the freedom given him by a set that was built specifically for the film and for his camera to be positioned as he pleased.

The film’s biggest star may in fact be the set created by production designer Alex McDowell. Rather than trying to wrangle shooting time in a real airport terminal, McDowell and his team of designers built a terminal inside of a Los Angeles airport hangar. The flawless design is a seamless recreation of any major airport terminal in the country right down to the uncomfortable benches, the ungodly level of branding, and astoundingly high prices.

However, without a well-told story to decorate the terrific set, the movie isn't worth anymore than it's production design. The Terminal is likable and sweet, and occasionally quite funny, but it is also inconsistent, simpleminded, and lighter than air. Tom Hanks is his typically likable self and Mr. Spielberg's direction is of his usual quality. It's unfortunate that the script by Sacha Gervasi and Jeff Nathanson is far below the quality of their work.

Movie Review Milk

Milk (2008) 

Directed by Gus Van Sant

Written by Dustin Lance Black 

Starring Sean Penn, James Franco, Josh Brolin, Victor Garber, Diego Luna

Release Date November 26th, 2008 

Published November 25th, 2008 

The life of Harvey Milk is an inspiration. The first openly gay elected official in the country was a bold, brave and brilliant man. He was a fighter and a politician and a flawed soul. A movie about his life needs to capture these aspects of Harvey Milk and the Gus Van Sant movie Milk comes up just short. It's not that Milk is poorly made or even that it fails to honor the man. It's just that such an atypical hero deserves something far more than a very typical biopic.

Sean Penn takes on the role of Harvey Milk picking up his life story in the early 1970's when a fully closeted Harvey cruised a young gay man in a New York subway. That young man was Scott Smith (James Franco) and he drew Harvey out of the closet and into the life he had always longed for. The two moved to San Francisco and opened a camera shop in the Castro District. That area of San Francisco is now a famously gay enclave but when Harvey and Scott arrived that wasn't the case. Milk slowly but surely ingratiated himself in the community, he drew people to him and eventually as the community changed with him, he became its leader.

His rise from community organizer to politician was filled with potholes and roadblocks but eventually Harvey was elected to the City Board of Supervisors where an alliance with Mayor George Moscone (Victor Garber) would make history and repeated run-ins with fellow supervisor Dan White (Brolin) would lead to tragedy. To tell the story of Harvey Milk's life Gus Van Sant has Harvey narrate his own story in flashback. As he sits at a table alone in his apartment Sean Penn as Harvey recalls the incidents of his life into a tape recorder. The device frames the film but it's one of many signs of just how typical the movie is.

The flashbacks unfold in predictable fashion recalling all of the well known moments of Harvey's life that shine a positive light on him. Leaving out a few of the less flattering moments, generally celebrating the things that Harvey Milk accomplished in the all too short time he was in public service. There is nothing terribly devastatingly wrong with Milk. It just shouldn't be so typical. This is the same biographical formula applied to every life from Ray Charles to Johnny Cash to any famous person you can think of whose life has been brought to film in the last decade.

The movie suffers from what I like to call Van Sant-itis. This is a malady that affects movies directed by but not written by Gus Van Sant. Movies like Finding Forrester, Good Will Hunting and To Die For are all enjoyable movies but each lacks the director's full engagement. Watch Elephant, Gerry, Last Days or Paranoid Park and you can see a fiercely committed director dedicated to bringing his vision to the screen. There is an almost visceral difference in the directors engagement with his filmmaking in these films, especially when compared to the often soft focused laziness of his non-writing credited films.

Milk is as close as Van Sant has come to committing to another writer's vision, he seems to really care about Dustin Lance Black's work, but as the film goes along you sense the drift in Van Sant's attention. As the movie goes on, after brief early love scenes, the film drifts into conventional biopic mode and rolls to its tragic finish on a wave of typicality. The only truly outstanding thing about Milk is Sean Penn. He embodies Harvey Milk mind, body and soul and his commitment almost overcomes the strict adherence to biographical formula. Penn's performance is as brave and bold as the man he plays but he is hemmed in by the numbers biopic recipe.

Milk is a disappointment only because I was expecting something more from it. The film suffers from building expectations. It suffers from our expectation of something better than your average Hollywood biopic.