In the blurb for Deconstructing Dirty Dancing, the author Stephen Naish describes it “as a film that has haunted him for decades” and it’s a feeling that I can more than identify with. Whole sections of dialogue can be recalled verbatim just from a chance phrase encountered in day-to-day life. I find myself humming the Kellerman Anthem while washing up. Hearing a song from the soundtrack instantly triggers an overwhelming wave of nostalgia for the late eighties when I first encountered the film, which I went on to watch, with my sister, over a hundred times. I’m probably quite a tough audience for a book on Dirty Dancing.
Naish’s basic premise is of Dirty Dancing as a story about the loss of personal innocence that reflects the societal loss of innocence in 1960s America. It may not be a staggeringly original one, but it’s a valid argument which he reiterates through a scene-by-scene interpretation of the film. He highlights some interesting parallels with Lynch’s Blue Velvet, another film which exemplifies the innocence lost in the transition from childhood to adulthood, the corruption of the American Dream and which stylistically draws on the distinctive early 60s and late 80s periods. Naish mentions a longer piece he has previously written on the topic and it’s a shame this couldn’t be included as not only is it an interesting comparison, but it may have helped to substantiate the book a little more.
Those familiar with the output of Zero Books will know that may of their publications are on the slighter side and this is -even by their benchmark - a very slim volume, particularly if you subtract the personal reflection at the end which added little value for me. I felt Naish missed a trick by not fleshing out the personal reflection with a more in-depth academic examination of the reception and legacy of the film. It is, however, a very readable book, not just because of its brevity. It’s one of the less theory driven Zero Book publications I’ve come across, largely pitched around Michele Schreiber’s theories of postfeminist cinema, women and romance and subsequently doesn’t risk alienating a non-academic audience.
It would be disingenuous however to suggest that as a short, simple book Deconstructing Dirty Dancing doesn’t raise some really interesting insights into the film. I was particularly struck by the suggestion that Penny’s interception of Dr Houseman during the merengue class he and Baby attend symbolises the role she will play in coming between the two characters. Similarly, the idea that Plight of the Peasants, the book Baby is reading at the start of the film foretells her own critical reevaluation of the role of class plays in her life I found fascinating. I’d never even noticed the title of the book before, perhaps I can blame the dodgy quality of VHS. The biggest revelation for me, however, was Naish’s suggestion that the final scene is interpreted as fantasy. It had never occurred to me how my own nostalgia for the film had blinkered my interpretation of it, which has always been as a straight narrative. Naish persuasively argues that Johnny driving away is the ‘real’ ending of the film, pointing out the signposts that indicate we are leaving reality and entering cinematic fantasy courtesy of Baby’s imagination. A suitably Lynchian interpretation and one which has for me ignited a desire to re-watch Dirty Dancing in a completely new way, which considering my history with the film is high praise indeed.
[I received a digital copy of this book for review from the publisher (via Netgalley).]