On the occasion of the broadcast of “La La Land”, the superb musical comedy by Damien Chazelle, this Sunday evening at 9 p.m. on Arte, here is a compilation of ten irresistible scenes where people dance badly but where feelings waltz.
Emma Stone et Ryan Gosling dans « La La Land ». Black Label Media/Gilbert Films/Impostor Pictures/Marc Platt Productions
Published on March 24, 2024 at 9:00 p.m.
It’s a fact: in the musical by Damien Chazelle, La La Land, Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone, a little starched, do not shine with their sense of arabesques and cat jumps. No matter: that’s what makes them so charming! It reminded us of other somewhat awkward but irresistible moments in cinema. Forget the cracks of Sexy Dancethe tap dances of Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, the bodysuit black by Jennifer Beals (Flashdance) or the wild hip swing of Patrick Swayze (Dirty Dancing), here we only deal with square-footed amateurs, anonymous people unable to distinguish a hunted step from an endangered species. In short: ordinary people. And that is precisely the virtue of these clumsy little dances: substituting the simplicity of the body for fussy choreography, freeing the affects, why not untying the knot of a plot or the one that is suffocating us. Opportunity for funny or touching scenes which often give the the the memory we keep of the film (or series). Here are ten scenes where the performers dance randomly… for our greatest pleasure!
“Life is Beautiful”, by Frank Capra
Under the floor, the beach. James Stewart and Donna Reed know nothing regarding the hi-hat but are so happy to find each other that they launch themselves onto the track like starving people, and this enthusiasm in the clumsiness is enchanting. There is always a moment with Capra when you have to free yourself (from lies, from modesty, from shyness), to throw yourself into the water. Moment when, generally, the spectator drops the (l)arms. That’s good: under the parquet floor of the ball hides a swimming pool…
“At the end of the race”, by Sidney Lumet
It’s a haven of joy in a life of forced wandering: chased by the FBI following protesting a little too brutally once morest the Vietnam War, the Popes never really settle down. Except for the time of this anniversary, where Judd Hirsch sends Fire and Rain by James Taylor before improvising some rudimentary dance steps with his wife and children. A moment suspended outside of time, where we almost have the impression of reliving a hypothetical celebration with our own family. Upsetting.
“The Breakfast Club”, de John Hughes
In the famous closed session of John Hughes, five high school students are in detention at their high school. It’s a bit like the Platonic idea of teen movie, the quintessence of the genre: following all the antagonists have clashed (the rebellious teenager, the bourgeois girl, the intellectual, the sportsman, etc.), there is finally harmony, like a transition to adulthood. First manifested by a final ritual: a saving, furious dance, to hue and dia. It doesn’t matter that Karla Devito’s synth pop seems a little cheesy today, we almost want to join them, relive one last time… those first times.
“Love, Actually”, de Richard Curtis
Well, we agree, Richard Curtis’ cult romantic comedy has aged poorly. The fact remains that in this choral film with today’s problematic sexism and fatphobia, there remain a few timeless moments of bravery, notably when Hugh Grant, here as British Prime Minister, lets loose in a ridiculous little solo to the sound of Jump (For My Love) of the Pointer Sisters… Things are happening in Downing Street!
“Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle”, by Éric Rohmer
We’re not going to play it once more for you cult scene of the Full moon nights (everyone knows it), nor that of Pauline at the beach, nor all the times that it is a question of illustrating the season of love in Rohmer’s cinema. In the magnificent Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle, the dance scene between the city girl and the country girl (recurring theme of the filmmaker), is of pure beauty, of extreme simplicity: these are the last movements of the body before the world falls silent. Soon the blue hour will come, a bucolic response to the green ray, more seaside, but the same expression of bliss when words are prohibited.
“The Heartbreaker”, by Pascal Chaumeil
OK here we’re cheating a little because we promised not to quote Dirty Dancing. But we must still recognize that the gesticulations, the almost simian imitation of Patrick Swayze by Romain Duris in this sequence of L’Arnacœur, is downright hilarious. Obviously, it falls back quite quickly into first-degree romanticism with Vanessa Paradis, but the few seconds where we imagine the dad of the Animal Kingdom as Johnny Castle, the dance teacher in “Babe”, it is very difficult to suppress a laugh.
“Imaginary Loves”, by Xavier Dolan
The chicest of the bunch. In Imaginary lovers, Niels Schneider, probably dead drunk, stretches erratically more than he dances. But through the grace of a strobe and desiring glances, he ends up transforming into a true Greek god. Or how the love of Xavier Dolan and Monia Chokri acts like a spell, freezing the actor into a statue. We are already won over but with Pass This On, The Knife makes you want to end the night with bacchanalia at the Rex Club.
“Maine Ocean”, by Jacques Rozier
We might have put Farewell Philipine, by the same Rozier, but it dances almost too well. Here we are amazed to discover a Bernard Menez on fire: initially a somewhat stiff controller, the actor washes up on the island of Yeu and proclaims himself king of samba, for one night, garlanded like a Christmas tree … before a difficult awakening, running alone on the sand: life, that is. One of the most beautiful parentheses in the history of cinema.
“Bande apart”, by Jean-Luc Godard
They’re smart, they’re elegant, but still. The three dance steps that Anna Karina, Claude Brasseur and Sami Frey tirelessly repeat in this chic Parisian café bear a striking resemblance to Madison evenings. which are played in Picardy village halls every weekend. Yes, but there you have it, Godard’s voice-over commentary, Raoul Coutard’s sumptuous black and white and this rudimentary choreography which never ends, like a litany, to the point of dizziness, have overtones of eternity.
“Wednesday”, by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar
A series to end. In this Tim Burton production, actress Jenna Ortega set the internet on fire with her gothic dance, an assembly of disjointed movements repeated tens of thousands of times on the networks. Completely improvised to the tune of Goo Goo Muck, des Cramps, in an advanced state of fatigue (the actress had covid during the shoot, which created an intense controversy), the jerks inspired by Siouxsie Sioux, Bob Fosse or Denis Lavant (apologies) have nevertheless found their audience : proof that you don’t necessarily have to be a star dancer to shine and ignite the dance floor.
La La Land, Sunday on Arte, at 9 p.m.