Be My Baby: Dirty Dancing hits twenty

Hard to believe that Dirty Dancing is twenty years old. Following the highly successful stage show, which opened in London last winter, this classic dance movie has been re-released in time for Valentine's Day, sparring with another re-release,Casablanca, for the title of "Most romantic movie ever."

Though I’m beside myself at the prospect of seeing Baby and Swayze dryhumping on the big screen once more, I’m not sure that Dirty Dancing should be dressed up as a date movie for Valentine’s Day. Date movies – if we’re talking about heterosexual dates,that is – are, by their very nature, dependent on fifty percent of their audience being composed of heterosexual men. And if one criteria of a chick flick were to be the resistance of heterosexual male audiences to come withina mile of them, then Dirty Dancing would surely be the chickiest flick ofthem all. Has anyone ever met a chap who will admit to liking it?

Even the most macho of men can find it in themselves to confess a grudging soft spot for certain two-hankie weepies – the odd Bette Davis movie, say, or Terms of Endearment, or Bridges of Madison County – but will become grim-faced at the prospect of Dirty Dancing. Not only is it an unabashed teen girl fantasy, but also it spends a lot of time lingering on Patrick Swayze's unfeasibly toned pecs. Far too much for the average Joe to bear, this one is definitely best enjoyed on a girls' night in.

Personally,I missed Dirty Dancing the first time round. I was turned off by the corny 1980s-lite theme tune, and, in my last year at university, believed myself to be too mature, and too cool,for mainstream dance movies. Then I caught it on TV a few years ago, and was hooked, from the moment the opening credits – the Ronettes’ Be My Baby booming over some steamy slow-motion gyrating – began. Now, to make up for my youthful ignorance, I've paid homage by putting Dirty Dancing in my Top Fifty in
Rough Guide to Chick Flicks, and to celebrate its anniversary I’m reprinting it here.

DIRTY DANCING
dir Emile Ardolino, 1987, US, 100m
cast Jennifer Grey, Patrick Swayze, Jerry Orbach, Cynthia Rhodes, Jack Weston, Jane Bruckner
cin Jeff Jur
m John Morris

Although the massive sleeper hit Dirty Dancing has become something of a joke – “No one puts Baby in the corner!” – it is a fond joke, and the movie holds such a treasured place in so many women’s hearts that it has earned itself the proud status of not only blockbuster, but also cult classic.

It’s the summerof 1963, and, just as they have done for years, a host of middle-class Jewish families are descending on a Catskills holiday camp. Jennifer Grey plays Baby,a 17-year-old Plain Jane who adores her daddy, gets good grades and dreams only of joining the Peace Corps. That is until she meets Johnny (Patrick Swayze),the camp’s bad-boy dance teacher, and, under his close instruction, learns a few of his moves. Clad in a tight T-shirt, Cuban heels and shades, and with the acting ability of a plank, Swayze could be faintly ridiculous were it not for his graceful, dynamic and yes, dirty, dancing. Snake-hipped and broad-shouldered,he has an undeniably commanding physical presence, and after ninety minutes lingering upon his rippling torso you really do start to understand what Baby sees in him.

However, when she first catches sight of him, grinding with his glamorous partner on the dance floor, Baby is as excited by their abandon as she is by Johnny himself. Although they have to put a lid on their natural instincts when entertaining the holidaymakers, the wrong-side-of-the-tracks entertainment staff really let rip back at the staff quarters (which, although they are out of bounds,Baby manages to wander around freely), black and white bumping and grinding in ways that this particular nice Jewish girl has barely dreamed of. Before she knows it,the truculent Johnny has defiantly swept her onto the dancefloor and, though clumsy at first, she soon warms up, finishing the number knock-kneed and triumphant. Within moments, it seems, she finds herself with just a few daysto rehearse in order to take the place of Johnny’s partner at an important show.

If Swayze knows how to dance, Emile Ardolino,who died in 1993,certainly knew how to direct dance scenes. Even Baby and Johnny’s “dancingon a log” sequence (after which, prancing around in a lake,they practise a particularly tricky balancing-above-the-head move), daft asit is, works. Each dance cranks up the sexual tension to such a pitch that when they do eventually sleep together the release is palpable. The music,too, is exceptional. While the movie’s Oscar-winning theme song – “I’ve Had The Time Of My Life” – has long since passed its sell-by date, the rest of the soundtrack is extremely classy,studded with steamy soul numbers from the likes of Otis Redding and Solomon Burke.

Transformed from goody two-shoes into hotpants-clad sex kitten, Baby is a great heroine. Fearless and unashamed, off the dancefloor she is in control – partly through her money and class, but also through sheer feistiness. Because of her, Johnny can finally find the courage to demand the creative control he longs for, and can even stop acting as a gigolo for the older female guests. But can their forbidden love ever be?

The finale, when Johnny, who has previously walked out, storms back into the camp during its last night show, hisses the immortal line, “No one puts Baby in thecorner!”,and whisks her onto the stage, is as corny as you like. The metaphor for a nation on the brink of change, about to be blown apart by the youth revolution and civil rights movement, may be heavy-handed, but as a joyously sexy coming of age story Dirty Dancing can’t be beat.