Somewhere in suburban Australia is a group of individuals who are simply fanatic about dancing, all working towards acquiring fame and prestige by taking part in a variety of challenging dance competition. Amongst the most promising young dancer is Scott (Paul Mercurio), who is supremely talented, but also very rebellious, with his insistence on dancing “his way” being a major point of contention for his mother, Shirley (Pat Thomson), who is obsessed with her son winning the upcoming Pan-Pacific Dance Competition, which won’t be possible unless he gets himself in line. In searching for a new partner (after his previous one quit in a fit of rage, a result of her growing weary of his refusal to adhere to the rules), Scott finds himself struggling to find someone who he can connect with, with every potential partner being wildly inappropriate for his style. This all changes with the arrival of Fran (Tara Morice), a frumpy beginner dancer who shoots her shot with Scott, and promises that she’ll be willing to dance “his way” as well, which is an irresistible proposition to the young man, who finds a kindred spirit in the enigmatic Fran, whose own background is quite ambigious, but counteracted by a fierce talent she keeps concealed, revealing it only to him, and allowing him to finally get a glimpse of what it would be like to have an artistic collaborator who understands him entirely, and is willing to go to any lengths to express the kind of unbridled passion simmering below the surface of their partnership. With the competition looming, and the external challenges becoming major obstacles, particularly those set down by Shirley, Scott and Fran do what they can to prove themselves, no matter the cost, or the adversaries they make along the way.
For most of the past three decades, Strictly Ballroom has been more of a trivia item than an actually celebrated work, normally associated as the outlier in the career of Baz Luhrmann, his ambitious first feature film that serves as the first in a loose trilogy of films, with the other two (Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge!) being classics of their respective eras. It’s not difficult to see why this film in particular hasn’t been celebrated all that much, other than by a smaller collective of ardent supporters who carry an almost cult-like adoration for it – this isn’t a particularly good film, but it certainly is a highly entertaining one. Luhrmann, perhaps the modern director who most embodies the trite adage of “style over substance” was making his directorial debut here, and naturally brought with him the usual teething problems that come with someone’s first work. Somewhat rushed, and lacking in a clear sense of narrative cohesion, Strictly Ballroom doesn’t really ever amount to much. Yet, it never once purports to being entirely original, unique or daring, so criticizing it for not being what it never attempts to be seems misguided, and seems to miss the point that Luhrmann and his fellow collaborators were attempting to convey with this film. Ultimately, it is a very dated work, one that doesn’t offer all that much other than mindless entertainment, but still carrying some merit, particularly in how it features some of the traits that the director would go on to successfully explore in many of his later, more notable works. It has a certain camp sensibility that makes it rather entertaining, and while it may fail to hit all the necessary notes, its heartfulness more than compensates for the absence of a strong story, and relatively lacklustre execution in general.
Luhrmann’s sensibilities as a filmmaker have always been inherently theatrical – his roots are on stage, which is reflected in the majority of his films, particularly the aforementioned “Red Curtain Trilogy”, which are three different works that appear to be plucked directly off the stage. Like many of his stylistic forerunners, Luhrmann’s films are more distinct in their appearance than they are in their story – so it goes without saying that Strictly Ballroom was always going to be more of a bit of loose comic entertainment than a hard-hitting drama, and anyone expecting something different has expectations for too high for this film to meet. Essentially a series of impressively-choreographed dance sequences, with a weak narrative about overcoming adversity, family struggles and individuality occurring between them, Strictly Ballroom is about as derivative as a film like this can be, following the common plot structure with precision, and never once deviating too far from what is expected. This approach makes looking at this film quite difficult – on one hand, it makes it very simple and allows it to avoid becoming convoluted or pretentious, keeping it on the fundamentally human level throughout, and making it quite an entertaining piece. On the other, it becomes a chore, since we’ve seen this kind of story done countless times before, only by better directors who understand that hitting every expected note isn’t a good method to making a film. Ultimately, looking too deep into Strictly Ballroom is a pointless exercise, since this isn’t a particularly serious film at all, and any attempts to justify it as anything other than a gloriously flashy dance film takes away from the various small merits that make it relatively entertaining in the first place.
It is quite easy to eviscerate Strictly Ballroom and point out all the inconsistencies and areas in which it fails – but that defeats the purpose of this film being made since it clearly was produced as a bit of mindless fun, more than anything else. It also goes against the fact that there are some genuinely good aspects of the film, which elevate it far beyond the bland material would have you believe. Mainly, the performances are what keeps the audience captivated, with Paul Mercurio managing to give quite a charismatic performance, despite having the most unconvincing character in the entire film, and Tara Morice managing to overcome one of the worst “ugly duckling” transformation in film history to give quite a compelling performance overall. Their chemistry is very good, and they both commit splendidly to the roles, managing to go beyond the confines of a pair of underwritten characters. However, Strictly Ballroom thrives because of some scene-stealing supporting performances that often command the screen whenever they appear – Pat Thomson is hilarious as the fame-obsessed mother, a deliciously evil villainess who actually possesses some semblance of complexity, a great surprise for a film that doesn’t do too much to give its characters nuance. It’s a tragedy Thomson died just before this film’s release, as this is the definition of a star-making performance that would have undoubtedly thrust her to the very top of the film industry’s list of brilliant character actors. Barry Otto is also wonderful as the protagonist’s father, a quiet man who carries deep secrets that only manifest in the second half, where he becomes quite pivotal to the plot.
To its credit, Strictly Ballroom does deliver exactly what it promises, and thus will be a great delight to those who normally enjoy this brand of exuberant, dance-centric storytelling (and chances are that the majority of those who will love this film already are well-aware of it), but also quite a challenge for anyone looking to be converted. Dance films tend to be a dime-a-dozen in the modern cinematic landscape, where they’ve carved out quite a significant chunk of the industry, gaining legions of fans who appreciate the spectacle that comes in seeing talented individuals move their bodies in entertaining ways – and for all intents and purposes, Strictly Ballroom doesn’t abandon this model at all. Perhaps not as narratively strong as some of the incredible dance-focused films made during the Golden Age of Hollywood, but far from as heartless and derivative as the majority of contemporary films that follow in this vein, Strictly Ballroom functions as a film brimming with heart. On a fundamental level, Luhrmann made a delightfully charming film that blends romance, comedy and heart, siphoning it through a bold, lavish series of well-choreographed sequences that are gorgeous to witness. There is certainly merit to be found in the film, although nothing all that unique or overly remarkable, rather serving as a solid bit of entertainment that provides exactly what it sets out to achieve at the outset. Ultimately, this film is adequately entertaining and very sincere, with its heartfulness being a fine excuse for the narrative weakness and relatively predictability, which would have otherwise weighed this film down had it not been so endearing and admirably dedicated to realizing its bold intentions.
