Director: Peyton Reed
Starring: Kirsten Dunst,Eliza Dushku,Jesse Bradford,Gabrielle Union
It seems to be a weekly thing now. Looking up what's new at the multiplex or video store and finding yet another low quality, low concept teen flick has been delivered. Almost always, the shamelessly packaged swill, if it's not busy trying to be another version of American Pie (which, itself, was really just a junior version of Porky's or Animal House), includes tons of cliches and at least one of three things:
a) an adaption of some Shakespeare classic
b) a stupid bet made by stupid people
c) Freddie Prinze, Jr.
Excuse me for saying that none of this stuff excites me. Considering that, Bring It On is surely one of last year's most enjoyable surprises, a brassy teen pic reminiscent of Clueless, but resounding with even more energy.
Newly appointed cheerleading captain Torrance (Kirsten Dunst), has just discovered that the secret to her squad's string of national titles is lifting routines from a predominantly black high school in East Compton. Surely, this year, a showdown is imminent.
I expect few cynics will be won over by this basic premise, but as directed by Peyton Reed, Bring It On makes up for it's occasional missteps (Torrance's love interest subplot, though charming, is hopelessly predictable) by being bolder and more brazen than the usual teen dreck. The story moves swiftly, joking about issues of race, class, and sexuality with a perfect level of “wink-wink, nudge-nudge” that works so well throughout the film, even the fart joke elicits laughs.
Dunst, who usually stays on the indie scene, proves perfect for the role. Not many could really sell the line, “This isn't a democracy, it's a cheer-ocracy.” Eliza Dushku, whom I've been longing to see since her grand turn as Faith on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, brings the perfect amount of attitude to new cheerleader Missy. It's a shame her character goes softer without reason later in the film, but the memory of her earlier scenes linger.
If your retort is that I just like watching cute girls dance, change outfits, and get thrown up in the air so certain parts can jiggle, well . . . you only covered one facet. I continue to be amazed by the scene-stealing charisma of Jesse Bradford (I suspect I'm one of a select few who still recalls his divine turn in Steven Soderbegh's 1993 masterpiece, King of the Hill). Given a normally throwaway love interest role (though I must credit the script for the design of his bedroom and making him wear a T-shirt bearing The Clash on his first day of class), Bradford has a level of nonchalant confidence that makes you wish he could land bigger roles that normally go to lesser talent (no need to mention names, I hope).
I'm sure there will be those who may end up like the narrow-minded I've encountered who can only tell me, “I'm not renting any stupid cheerleader movie” (right before they opt for the incoherently stupid Coyote Ugly, so go figure), but that's convenient. I have a special “spirit finger” reserved just for them, anyway.
