+ Interview with Sean Patrick Thomas
starring in Save the Last Dance
Hip-hop for Respect
From the start, Save the Last Dance looks like just
another teen romance film. It has all the familiar
ingredients -- the pretty couple, a high school
setting, troubles with parents, troubles with cliques,
and a major ambition to be achieved. However, it also
brings more than you might expect, namely, two
talented actors as the pretty couple -- Julia Stiles
and Sean Patrick Thomas -- and a script, by Duane
Adler, that for the most part, treats hip-hop culture,
its teen protagonists, and its audience with some
respect.
The film opens with Sara (Stiles) riding a train from
her Illinois hometown to the big city, Chicago. As she
gazes sadly out the window at the rushing landscape,
she remembers for you the circumstances of her move.
Once a talented young ballerina with great ambitions,
now she's grieving the loss of her mother, who died in
a car wreck while rushing to be at her daughter's
Juilliard audition. The flashback lays out this trauma
as it will affect young Sara for the rest of the film
-- lots of scenes showing hugs and kisses with mom,
then, Sara blowing her audition at precisely the
moment that her mother's car crashes. Of course, she
feels enormously guilty, believing that her mother
would still be alive if it weren't for her.
So now Sara faces a new beginning, living with her
scrungey jazz musician father Roy (Terry Kinney,
strong in an underwritten part), in a tiny apartment
on the South Side. Immediately, she's plunged into a
world that is completely opposite of her previous
experience. Not only has she given up dancing, but
she's now confronted with a student population, where
she is -- on screen, anyway -- the only white member
(on the phone, Sara's best friend from back home asks
if she's seen any murders and promises to pray for
her). But Sara is not easily intimidated. On her first
day in English class, she tangles with Derek (Thomas),
when he challenges her good-student's formalist
analysis of Truman Capote's In Cold Blood, by saying
that it served a more important social and political
function, by making "white folks back then" realize
that violence could invade even their safe Midwestern
homes, adding that it was an old story and even an old
technique for black folks, who knew -- as Sara does
not -- that Richard Wright had already made the case
in his work.
If all this sounds a little heady for a teen romance,
it is. It also demonstrates that Save the Last Dance
has more on its mind than the usual angst over what to
wear to the prom. Sara not only has to adapt to a
culture that most suburban white kids only glimpse via
Jay Z cds or bling bling videos on MTV, but she also
has to come to terms with her own limited
self-consciousness, including the fact that, as a
privileged kid, she's never had to grapple with the
daily issues -- violence, fear, poverty -- common to
so many other populations, both urban and rural. This
isn't to say that Save the Last Dance is flawless or
even wholly enlightened. It falls back on a few
cliches to get its points across, for instance,
pitting Sweet Sara against a Bad Girl (Derek's jealous
ex-girlfriend, played by Bianca Lawson). They engage
in a bit of brutal competition on the dance floor and
the basketball court (the fight here is a bit of a
surprise -- and their inability to talk it out
afterwards is actually fine, less contrived than if
they had). You've likely seen these scenes before in
other movies.
Similarly, you've also seen Derek's subplot,
specifically, his longtime friendship with his boy
Malakai, played by the magnetic rapper Fredro Starr
(sorry, Firestarr), late of Onyx. Starr here reprises
a role he can probably play in his sleep by now --
after doing it in Strapped, Clockers, and last
year's Light It Up, to name a few -- that is, the
hyperactive, ever-ready-to-roll, bad-boy banger. This
business inevitably leads Derek to face a terrible
choice, between his own future (college, the white
girl) and loyalty to his friend during a neighborhood
showdown. Sara's cliche is equally silly. In her
Flashdance trajectory, she's the "real" (i.e.,
ballet) dancer, who finally triumphs at her audition
for a panel of snobby-looking Juilliard judges when
she learns to incorporate (not to say appropriate)
"street" knowledge and skills. In this case, she
lucks out that Derek, in addition to being a brilliant
student, loyal friend, and responsible brother, is
also a great hip-hop dancer. Over the course of their
informal rehearsals (Derek: "Want to get together
sometime, to work on your movies?"), they fall in
love.
With all this said, though, Save the Last Dance
does offer a relationship that you may not have seen
previously, at least not in the shape it takes here.
This is the friendship between Sara and Derek's
sister, Chenille (the super-charismatic Kerry
Washington), a single mom who's completing her high
school degree and has some definite opinions about
what it means for white girls to date black boys.
These opinions come to light during a conversation
they girls have while sitting in a clinic waiting room
full of mothers and babies, and they reveal (without
entirely resolving) some sensitive questions that
don't often come up in mainstream teen movies.
For my money, it's the girls' friendship that holds
the film together. Almost as soon as Sara arrives,
Chenille "adopts" her, sitting with her in the
cafeteria and bringing her along to Stepps, a hip-hop
dance club, where, Sara discovers, all her years of
training mean little. Here the dance moves are, as
Chenille might say, "slamming" (and they're
choreographed by Fatima, who created the dances in
Michael Jackson's video for "Remember the Time,"
Aaliyah's "Try Again," and the Backstreet Boys'
"Larger Than Life," among other videos).
It's true that Sara learns the steps and is accepted
by the other kids pretty quickly -- hey, it's a movie.
But the dance scenes inject Save the Last Dance with
all kinds of energy (not unlike the cheerleading
competition scenes in Bring It On), and more
importantly, they show just how the girls connect.
It's telling that in the last club scene, under the
closing credits, it's the girls who are dancing
together, joyous in their shared love of music and
movement. High school movie romances are one thing,
but the hip-hop alliances, those are forever.