One skill I never mastered is dancing. I have a rudimentary understand of waltzes, I have down the most basic step in swing, but those two aspects do not cancel out my two left feet. I should give myself more grace. I often surprise people with my athleticism, I have a Ph.D. for crying out loud, and I can get by in three languages. The problem is not music, either. I can read music notes and can mentally keep up with just about any beat. If boogieing were only from the waste up while sitting, I could be Fred Astaire. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, when my legs get involved, it all falls apart. It could be a lack of confidence, or the fact that I have never taken any lessons. What this square Catholic would probably avoid if I chose to learn would be the kind of moves you see in Dirty Dancing (1987). Not to be a traitor to my generation, but I can see why kids had to sneak out to the kinds of parties you see in the movie. What is more, as Faith and the film demonstrate, if you are honest from the beginning, everything works out for the best.
The best plan for Frances “Baby” Houseman (Jennifer Grey) at the beginning of Dirty Dancing is to get through the summer of 1963 and enter the Peace Corps. As her beloved father, Dr. Jake Houseman (Jerry Orbach), liked to say of his youngest, she is going to change the world. That will have to wait for after the season because Dr. Houseman is taking her, her older sister Lisa Houseman (Jane Brucker), and her mother, Marge Houseman (Kelly Bishop), to a lakeside resort in the Catskills. It is owned by Dr. Houseman’s good friend Max Kellerman (Jack Weston), and the Housemans are treated as special guests. While exploring the grounds, Baby learns that the hand-picked, Ivy league service staff are supposed to flirt with those staying on the grounds to a certain degree. As this interesting development sinks in, she also notices the arrival of the entertainment staff, namely Johnny Castle (Patrick Swayze) and Penny Johnson (Cynthia Rhodes). They are the main attraction when it comes to dancing, and they are paid well for their skills. On their first night, Johnny and Penny get the crowd going with their moves. Max thinks they are showing off to a certain degree, not wanting them to discourage clients from paying to take lessons with them. Baby is mesmerized, and as she is walking back to her cabin after the evening is over, she ends up helping Billy Kostecki (Neal Jones), one of the entertainment staff, with bringing a watermelon up to their recreation hall. She is drawn there by the music, thinking that she will see Johnny. Billy is hesitant because it is against the rules, but he eventually relents. Soon enough, Johnny and Penny arrive from their show. At first, Johnny wants nothing to do with the guest being in their private area, but soon he is inviting her out onto the dance floor. It is her first step, if you will pardon the expression, into a different world. Because of the hoped for camaraderie, when next she sees Penny, Baby acts as if they have something in common. Penny has other ideas, but Baby is undeterred, especially after she learns from Billy that Johnny and Penny are not a couple. Thus, when Penny is not there for the next dance, Baby finds her crying in the kitchen. Baby runs to tell Johnny, and together they learn that Penny is pregnant from Robbie Gould (Max Cantor), a waiter on whom Lisa has a crush. The next development was difficult for this Catholic. Wanting to “help,” Baby decides to come up with the money Penny needs to get an abortion, which Billy has lined up for the dancer. It is also not great when Baby gets the money from her father without telling him the purpose for the funds. Unfortunately for Johnny and Penny, the date of their next performance, which they need in order to stay employed, is on the same day as her procedure. Ironically, it is Penny that offers the solution: that Baby take her place as Johnny’s partner. Though Johnny finds the idea mad, he relents and he and Baby begin spending as much time as possible together in order for her to perfect the routine. On the appointed evening, she travels to a nearby club with Johnny and does admirably, though is not able to trust herself with the lift. However, when they return to the resort, they find that the doctor Penny had gone to was not exactly reputable, and she is in serious condition. Seeing no alternative, Baby wakes her father, which means he gets a glimpse into what she has been doing behind his back. To make matters worse, Baby ends up deepening the lies by spending the night with Johnny in a carnal fashion. In the morning, Dr. Houseman announces they are leaving, but this is quickly ended when Lisa complains that she had been looking forward to singing in an upcoming show. Candidly, Lisa admits to Baby that the former is planning on going “all the way” with Robbie, despite the latter’s misgivings. What changes is the eve of the going-away show when cougar Vivian Pressman (Miranda Garrison) learns that she has been spurned by Johnny in favor of Baby. In retaliation, she accuses Johnny of having stolen Moe Pressman’s (Garry Goodrow), her husband, wallet. Max believes he needs to fire Johnny unless his alibi of being in his room all night reading can be corroborated. It is at this point that Baby finally works up the courage to admit her relationship with Johnny, but it does little good. Despite the real culprit being found, Johnny is told to move on, which Baby accepts only after scolding her dad. Nonetheless, the night does not finish without a grand entrance from Johnny, who has come back because tradition states that he is the one to close the final show. With Baby as his partner, and Robbie inadvertently telling Dr. Houseman his guilt, their number has Dr. Houseman asking Johnny for forgiveness and the rest of the crowd dancing.
Of course, not everyone in the crowd is doing Dirty Dancing. If you watch the credits for a moment, you will see a special section dedicated to the “Dirty Dancers.” You can easily pick them out if you see the film. Again, it does not make this Catholic comfortable, morally speaking, that you would have to single out these people in this manner. Despite my clumsiness on the floor, there is nothing wrong with dancing in general. Just because I do not do it does that mean that I begrudge it to others. Still, it is difficult to look at their gyrations and not see it as basically one slip away from public sex. It would also be incorrect to say that the Church has some kind of ban on any form of dancing. It is not like the old cliché one hears about with saving room between two partners for the Holy Spirit. What the Church worries about is anything overly sensual, and the movie provides ample evidence of why this would be the case. If I were Dr. Houseman, I would be concerned, too, about my daughter getting mixed up in such a world. What happens between daughter and father is a breakdown in trust, which is, ironically enough, exactly what you need to be a good dancer. As a practicing Catholic, I was drawn to this aspect of the story. As Baby is learning the lift, Johnny’s repeated message to her is that she has to trust him. There is truth in this statement as it applies to Faith, and as a metaphor for our relationship with God. In this particular move, Baby must run towards Johnny, throw herself into his arms, and allow herself to be lifted up. The same thing can be said for how we approach God. Sadly, so many do what Baby does during her first performance. They go only so far before they stop. For her, it is about a lack of confidence that she will not injure him or herself. People do not give themselves fully to God because of a lack of belief that He is real. However, like Johnny, God is there and He wants to lift you up, but with Him, it is forever.
Luckily, Dirty Dancing does not go on forever, nor is it a musical. I worried about this because, funnily enough, this 1980s kid had never seen it before I watched it for this review. That is remarkable given how pervasive it was at that time. And while I am not happy with what Baby did with Penny, overall, I am glad I caught up with this piece of my childhood.