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Gentertainers who don’t know why TV’s Strictly Come Dancing is called that (or even what the old Come Dancing show was) must follow Baz Luhrmann’s directorial debut from 1992; it’s as cute, cute and romantic as you want it to be. It was the Australian crowd-pleaser who made Luhrmann a star, and “hard” sounded like an understatement. Ballroom dancing may not have been cool (although it is here, more or less), but the film revealed that it had a very passionate and self-confident fan base, such as being an Abba nut in PJ Hogan’s Muriel’s Wedding from 1994, who also played the old Oz comedian turning Bill Hunter in a very similar role.
Strictly Ballroom also set the narrative template for Strictly Come Dancing; the film’s combination of a brilliant dancer and a strong technical ability became a professional/celebrity TV partnership, and the mysterious secret attraction of their growing relationship in the rehearsal studio became a small part of the important drama of the game and the background material. Talented young dancer Scott Hastings (played seductively by Paul Mercurio) has been preparing for a prestigious national competition since he was six years old. His mother Shirley (Pat Thomson) is a teacher and disillusioned dancer, while his fearful father Doug (Barry Otto) is worried, due to a serious dance-related injury revealed in the finale. Scott has gotten into trouble in the past for abandoning well-thought-out dance steps, fueling his emotional conflicts, but now it looks like he might be able to win, led by his talented but unmotivated partner.
But when fate dictates that they can’t compete, shy duckling Fran (Tara Morice) asks the playful Scott if she can dance with him; his natural humility and talent redeem his tendency to be arrogant, especially when his Latin American grandmother (Armonia Benedito) schools Scott in a convincing way that really sings and sings. Now Scott and Fran must face the ruthless corruption of an old, corrupt generation, portrayed by the evil president of the Australian Dancing Federation, the well-known and established Barry Fife (Hunter).
We can see in the image of the style that later evolved into Luhrmann’s standard practice (similar to watching an early Wes Anderson film): panning, slow close-ups, big eyes and well-developed teeth. Perhaps every one of Luhrmann’s next pictures is based on ballroom dancing, although so far he has never attempted a direct performance. It’s a dizzying swirl of fun.
