Way back in the 1980s they used to make teen movies, films where the kid who lived in either New York or L.A. had to move back to Middle America, also known as “Small Town America.” It was culture shock where the kid didn’t know anybody. Typically he’s befriended by the geeky kid, catches the eye of the cute popular girl, and triggers the ire of the local macho boys. There is always a fight that the school knows about but does nothing to stop, and the moment where the kid does his skill and wins everyone over. That skill could be playing a guitar or some non-football sport. This film was made about a million times in the 80s and eventually faded away. Since nothing is never truly over in Hollywood, that ember is fanned in the new flick BRAVETOWN.
The story starts with Josh (Lucas Till) spinning records at a NYC club. Behind the turntables and his computer, the guy has the skills to ramp up an audience. We are told almost instantly that DJs are the new rock stars. Interest is being shown by record company executives and all the girls on the dance floor want Josh. It is a life of endless parties and tons of designer drugs. All good things must come to an end, or in Josh’s case, an overdose.
The judge sentences the underage boy to the guardianship of his father, whom Josh has never met. The man lives in a small town way in the sticks of fly-over country. Before we can say plot twist the boy is stuck in the little town, surrounded by hayseeds. Almost as instantly he is befriended by a younger kid named Tony (Jae Head) who seems to be looking for an older brother figure. Almost as instantly he meets his counselor for the court-ordered sessions, a guy named Alex (Josh Duhamel). Josh realizes that Alex is a fish out of water in this small town and that there must be something more to his story. Since Josh is a bit of a stoic loner, the two just sit around watching soccer and eating pizza. Little counseling happens during the sessions.
Josh goes to a school dance and watches the local dance squad. They are run by Mary (Kherington Payne) and they are terrible, the laughingstock of the school. Josh steps behind the DJ booth and spins some beats and suddenly they are better. So the cool kid shows the rural hicks how it is done in the big, bad city. Oh, and Tony and Mary are siblings. So far, this is shaping up to be every teen movie from the 1980s. Then the film takes a very solemn turn. This is one of those small towns that has few ways out and the easiest is by joining the service. That means there is a lot of lost family and friends who are gone.
In the film, there is this tree where the family members hang the medals of the dead on the branches. It is a solid metaphor and the moment the dynamic changes. As the narrative opens up, we see that everyone in this world is damaged. We know that Josh in an unwanted kid, but we find out that even in rural America there are wounds that run deep. Mary and Tony have lost their older brother to the war while their mother (played by Laura Dern) is lost in her depression over the event. We also learn that Alex has lost his best friend to the war and has his own secret to why he’s in the small town.
There is a big reveal in the third act that propels the last of the picture. There are moments of realization and reflection that work as a commentary on how war affects those left behind. Then the film attempts to tie everything up in the cliche bow. There is a dance team invitational that will be held in their small town if the local dance team can win all their competitions. Everybody knows where this train is headed, straight to Obvious-ville.
One has to have a strong suspension of disbelief to make this film work – has to believe that a bunch of farm girls can do a different professional dance routine each week with no adult training and supervision – has to believe that a rural farm town can have a giant professional stage and lighting sets waiting at their call. And one has to believe that these kids can instantly street dance without any training and move like inner city kids who have practiced moves for years. On one level, mid-American white kids trying to be hip and urban is (in the minds of some) pathetic and on the other hand it is sad. That is where some of the dancing lays — between pathetic and sad. Finally, one has to believe that at the big competition, the dance troop would do a ‘dance as war’ metaphor interpretation, complete with Platoon references. At best, half of this film is an adolescent fantasy of how dance truly is done.
The other half of the film is where the production has some shine. If the kid would have been the observer of how rural America is being devastated by the ongoing and never-ending onslaught of a war lasting decades, that would have been an important and potent storyline. If writer Oscar Orlando Torres would have shown the senseless waste of human life that war is and how it affects the family back home for long after the last shot has rang out, that would have been an important film. BRAVETOWN almost got it half-right, but getting half the answers right is still failing.
What is BRAVETOWN? Basically blend STEP UP with those 1980s teen flicks, then add a giant helping of COMING HOME and there you have it. It is nowhere near as great a film as COMING HOME and not as good as STEP UP. It they would have got rid of the dancing and focused on the idea of military loss, that would have been a much more powerful effort.
