The problem with Fame
The bright lights dim as a classic film is updated and sanitized
By Erik Hayden 10/01/2009
Fame
Directed by Kevin Tancharoen
Starring: Kay Panabaker, Naturi Naughton, Asher Book
Rated PG for thematic material, including teen drinking, a sexual situation and language
1hr. 47min
Theater lights pop, hiss and come to life as the camera shifts between nervous students auditioning for the grim-faced, but kind-hearted teachers. A tense urgency underlies this often-comical talent showcase — these students know that failing to get accepted to the prestigious School of Performing Arts in New York City is a huge setback. It might even prematurely end their dreams of stardom.
But even those accepted are informed that, along with working double duty on normal classes, success is far from guaranteed. Such is the allure of fame; it’s always an aspiration and almost never a reality.
The reincarnation of Fame works best not as a musical revival, but as an abstract (and well-choreographed) snapshot of the aspiring young artists struggling to get a foothold on life and career during their formative years. At its best, it strikes the right chord, but it never seems to hold the note for very long.
The new film closely follows the structure and tone of the 1980 version and updates the template only to contemporize, and slightly sanitize, the material. Like the original, the film begins on audition day and follows select thespians, ballet dancers and musicians all the way through high school, ending with the obligatory graduation performance.
Yet Fame is no High School Musical — and that’s a good thing. Even though the original film’s more street-savvy instincts are watered down in favor of more digestible (and G-rated) situations, the new version stays true enough to some semblance of reality. “Fame” may mean choosing an extended role on Sesame Street while dropping out of high school, joining a world-class ballet company and leaving first love behind, or successfully pitching an indie film and getting the $5,000 budget heisted by a shady producer.
In spite of the stock plot points (the film is chock-full of underdeveloped, and often head-scratching, storylines), the real heart of the movie lies in its excellent dance and song routines. Newcomer Naturi Naughton manages to find real soul in the piano ballad “Out Here On My Own,” and artist Santigold spices up the school dance number “You’ll Find a Way” with an M.I.A.-inspired street-dance romp. The only truly middling numbers are the hammy show tunes vocalized by Asher Book, the blandly handsome male lead, who seems poised to make a run as the next crooning Jonas Brother.
And therein lies the problem with Fame. It seems to have been green-lighted by studio executives under the assumption that it would become a Disney-style blockbuster phenomenon, selling more than a few movie tickets and soundtrack copies along the way.
But aside from its brand name recognition, Fame is probably the wrong vehicle to accomplish these aims. By diluting any remotely edgy strands of the storyline (is the male ballet dancer from Iowa who tries to kill himself gay?), the film fails to capture any buzz as a boundary-pushing musical that still appeals to the general public.
Instead, audiences get doses of pretty faces, solid choreography and some hummable songs that can be absentmindedly cherry-picked off iTunes. You’d like to think that the director and crew were going for more. Maybe they were. Many of the films edgier scenes seem conspicuously shortened. It’s as if the film was reshaped, reimagined (by producers) and reedited on the cutting room floor to stuff it with all the dance routines and none of
the drama.
This hopelessly dated revival of Fame meanders like the aspiring artists who missed the cut on attending the prestigious school: It has no purpose or message and flounders at all the key moments.
How unfortunate; there was so much potential.
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