In case you were wondering, this photo should illustrate precisely how she move
How She Move is the latest entry in the surprisingly ubiquitous girls-finding-themselves-through-competitive-urban-dance genre of filmmaking — it’s Rudy with a little more estrogen and a lot more steppin’. A lack of ovaries and a general disinterest in synchronized dance routines may preclude some (17-plus male) viewers from enjoying this type of movie, regardless of whether they sat down with an open mind and a willingness to get rhythm. Ultimately, How She Move would validate any notions one may have about this genre.
The film follows the formulaic journey taken by a young woman returning from private school to face inner-city hardship under tragic circumstances. All of the typical caricatures are there to greet Raya, our protagonist, on her return — the embittered former friend who resents being condescended to by the straight-A dreamer, the potential love interest who sparks her return to competitive dance, the geek who comes out of his shell, the intimidating superstar dancer whose ethics go from questionable to straight-up villainous, the overbearing mother, the stifled father and so on. Raya tries to focus on her goal of being accepted to Johns Hopkins University, but memories of her sister’s drug-related death coupled with a seemingly blown scholarship exam have torn a hole in her pocket full of dreams.
Enter the world of step dancing, a hyper-expressive performance art that has always held deep meaning for Raya because of her relationship with her big sister (and also thanks to the $50,000 reward being offered at an elite annual competition staged in Detroit). Raya snubs Embittered Friend and joins Potential Love Interest’s dance crew, at least to begin with. The requisite bumps in the road have her kicked out, switching sides, sleeping with the enemy, backpedalling and seeking forgiveness before boot-stomping and floor-slapping her way back onto the team. The much-anticipated competition arrives, featuring the a list of opponents knocked off in heart-pounding, single-elimination action that is kept mercifully short. It’s all very familiar.
As for what works: Rutina Wesley is excellent as Raya. Her big, expressive eyes, understated beauty and naturalistic delivery make for a performance genuine enough to glue together this kindergarten collage of a movie. She has a sweetness and innocence that’s never forced, and is determined without being annoying. She has no pretensions about herself or her character. Given the right platform, she could make an audience fall in love with her a little bit. Also, there is a brief but surprisingly touching final moment between Raya’s parents witnessed by our heroine that ends an otherwise unimpressive movie on the right note.
A few familiar Canadian faces pop up in How She Move to remind audiences that this was written by an up-and-coming Canadian screenwriter (Annmarie Morais), partially funded by Telefilm Canada and shot in Toronto. A Canadian version of something that wasn’t particularly original to begin with — sound familiar?
