Step Up 4: Miami Heat

Yet another tween-targeted street dance movie, “Step Up 4: Miami Heat” does the bare minimum of what is required of it, following an idiotic storyline so formulaic it tap-dances dangerously towards self-parody, and then quickly struts off while simultaneously doing the electric boogaloo. As can be deciphered from the title, this is the fourth entry in the “Step Up” franchise, which exists for the purpose of providing its teenage demographic with high-energy hip hop set pieces flaunting supersonic pop-locking and elaborate, pelvis-cracking choreography. “Miami Heat” provides plenty of this (in 3D!) but precious little of anything else.

As we’re now four full-length features into this increasingly monotonous franchise, I don’t think it would be unfair or too demanding to expect something more than the usual, hackneyed routine - we’ve seen the rhumba, now show us some drama. Alas, we can merely yearn for such seemingly unattainable things and live in hope that one day a “Step Up” movie will come along with more to its name than the (admittedly impressive) body-popping schtick. For now, though, we must simply sit back and enjoy the music and the dancing and the flashing lights and the gorgeous gaggle of sun-soaked bodies moving to the beat in faultless synchronisation.

“Miami Heat” is a “Step Up” movie in name and concept only. Its concept, shared with all the “Step Up” movies, is simple: there are people on this planet, mostly Abercrombie & Fitch types, who enjoy dancing, especially in large groups. Dancing means the whole world to these people and it is their sole purpose in life, so it’s quite the relief that they are all rather good at dancing. Without dancing, their lives would be empty, their existence would be meaningless and as human beings they would effectively be worthless. In that sense, these characters are much like the movies they star in.

The hip-hopping heroes (and heroines) of “Miami Heat” are The Mob, who are not gangsters but are street dancers. They specialise in public disturbances, or, as they so proudly call them, flash mobs. I’ll stick with public disturbances. We meet The Mob as they indulge in their baser urges, springing into action in the midst of a traffic jam in the scorching heat of Miami Beach. Draped in hoodies and tank tops and torn jeans and baseball caps, they strut their magnificent stuff on the hoods, roofs and side windows of immobile cars, some of which launch five feet off the ground beneath their feet. It’s like the street dance scene from “Fame," only a little more coordinated. Videos of The Mob’s vehicle-mounting antics soon go viral on the net (20,000 views in under 5 hours!) and even end up on the local news. Great success!

Leader of The Mob is Sean (Ryan Guzman), a twentysomething hunk with a part-time job as a waiter. Nobody in the crew does anything within The Mob without his say. They organise their flash mobbing (?) like members of the “Mission: Impossible” team, planning high-stakes break-ins by mapping out the locale, checking out the area’s security system and plotting their escape route in case the fuzz turns up. Members of the crew are introduced like Ocean’s 11, only we don’t get to know them nearly as well. The Mob’s ultimate aim is to gain 10 million hits on their YouTube page, making them the winners of an online competition that would mean a major sponsorship opportunity.

Of course, the story of “Miami Heat” must contain a romance. And of course, this romance falls about as flat as a steamrolled pancake. Aspiring ballet dancer and new girl in town Emily (Kathryn McCormick of “So You Think You Can Dance” fame) is the sweet and sensitive love interest of Sean. She is the daughter of ruthless business tycoon Bill Anderson (Peter Gallagher, “American Beauty”), the film’s sharp-suited antagonist. It is Anderson’s heinous plan to bulldoze The Mob’s beloved long-time hangout along with much of their neighbourhood in order to make way for a brand new hotel (the corporate bastard!). The Mob, now joined by Emily, decide to protest Anderson’s scheme the only way they know how - why, dancing, of course! “It’s time to turn performance art into protest art!” barks one forgettable Mob member of many.

I see potential in this plot that far outreaches a series of set-ups for impossibly extravagant production numbers. A high-profile battle between the highly privileged and the not-so-privileged paves the way for a rousing exploration into class inequality and the increasing gap between the long-suffering poor and the stinking rich. This would allow for “Miami Heat” to gloriously transcend its genre and transform itself into a dance drama that is not just visually dazzling but thematically rich and ripe with cutting-edge social commentary. But no: newbie director and former music video maker Scott Speer is far too interested in the inner workings of a headspin to notice the golden opportunity that has landed on his lucky little lap.

Come to think of it, inserting such a social commentary into “Miami Heat” may not achieve the desired effect, as The Mob are never shown to be particularly poor - they are, after all, perfectly able to afford an entire warehouse supply of lavishly designed costumes on short notice with not the slightest squeak of a financially concerned complaint. I didn’t much care for The Mob: they are supremely talented dancers, no doubt, and physically attractive to boot. But as characters they lack dimension and punctuality, and I found their obsession with their soon-to-be-demolished turf a little disconcerting. There’s another message “Miami Heat” fails to capitalise on and actively chastises: the power to move on.

But this is a “Step Up” movie, which means most of those in attendance will be there for the dance sequences and nothing more. These sequences, which are often creatively choreographed and energetically shot, see “Miami Heat” at its best: one stand-out scene sees the art installations of a museum springing to life. The problem is the parts in between these sequences, when the hyperactive limb-flailing stops and the thinly plotted narrative cranks back into motion, leaving us bored and uninvolved in a frustratingly predictable story. As I said before, we are now four movies into this franchise, yet it remains perpetually stuck at step one. This franchise, it needs to take a few steps forward and step up its game a little.

5/10