Being a writer sucks sometimes. Like today, for instance, when my lovely computer crashed and ate my entire Footloose review, which was quite eloquent and insightful. Trust me, you would have loved it. But, because I'm lazy, you're stuck with this one instead. I promise it will be concise and straightforward with small nuggets of insight.
Footloose, for any of those who've lived under a bridge for the past 27 years, is about a city boy, Ren (newcomer Kenny Wormald) who moves from Boston to Bomont, GA after his mom dies. Quickly he learns that the small town has some weird laws prohibiting public dances outside of church functions because some high schoolers died in a drunk car crash several years before (why they don't just outlaw driving instead is beyond me). Upon his arrival in Bomont, Ren catches the eye of the minister's wild child daughter, Ariel (Julianne Hough) and befriends a yokel named Williard (Miles Teller). Somewhere in there Ren does an angry dance in a warehouse on his yellow VW bug, and my friend, who never saw the Kevin Bacon version, snickered profusely.
Director Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow) has lovingly remade Footloose with much of its original elements. Ariel's red boots pop up, as does Ren's red velvet prom jacket. While most of these elements are welcome additions, such as new renditions of popular soundtrack tunes, the film is almost too similar to the original. The 2011 version wasn't given enough license to make it feel new and fresh and become its own film. I wish they could have made it just ever so slightly different from the original. Although, all the Step Up type choreography was pretty entertaining.
The performers are decent. While Bacon had a dance double, Wormald is a backup dancer turned actor, and it shows. Same goes for Hough. Both actors are slightly wooden and don't really light up the screen until they start dancing. Teller, on the other hand, lends the movie most of its comic relief and steals the show, much like his original counterpart, Chris Penn.
I went into Footloose prepared to dislike the remake. Why remake such a cult classic? But I couldn't help wanting to kick off my Sunday shoes and cut loose. I hate myself for admitting that...
--Darcie Duttweiler
Footloose, for any of those who've lived under a bridge for the past 27 years, is about a city boy, Ren (newcomer Kenny Wormald) who moves from Boston to Bomont, GA after his mom dies. Quickly he learns that the small town has some weird laws prohibiting public dances outside of church functions because some high schoolers died in a drunk car crash several years before (why they don't just outlaw driving instead is beyond me). Upon his arrival in Bomont, Ren catches the eye of the minister's wild child daughter, Ariel (Julianne Hough) and befriends a yokel named Williard (Miles Teller). Somewhere in there Ren does an angry dance in a warehouse on his yellow VW bug, and my friend, who never saw the Kevin Bacon version, snickered profusely.
Director Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow) has lovingly remade Footloose with much of its original elements. Ariel's red boots pop up, as does Ren's red velvet prom jacket. While most of these elements are welcome additions, such as new renditions of popular soundtrack tunes, the film is almost too similar to the original. The 2011 version wasn't given enough license to make it feel new and fresh and become its own film. I wish they could have made it just ever so slightly different from the original. Although, all the Step Up type choreography was pretty entertaining.
The performers are decent. While Bacon had a dance double, Wormald is a backup dancer turned actor, and it shows. Same goes for Hough. Both actors are slightly wooden and don't really light up the screen until they start dancing. Teller, on the other hand, lends the movie most of its comic relief and steals the show, much like his original counterpart, Chris Penn.
I went into Footloose prepared to dislike the remake. Why remake such a cult classic? But I couldn't help wanting to kick off my Sunday shoes and cut loose. I hate myself for admitting that...
--Darcie Duttweiler
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