‘Footloose’ blends something old, something new for fairly successful remake

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Everything old is new again. And again. And yet again.

At least among the Hollywood types, who seem fervently committed to recycling — at least when it comes to retreads of past successes.

Which means we’re getting a "Footloose" remake whether we want it or not.

But unless you regard the 1984 original with the kind of awe generally reserved for holy writ, you might be surprised by this reboot’s relative snap, crackle and pop.

Of course, dancing’s in the air these days anyway, what with the success of TV showcases from "Dancing with the Stars" to "So You Think You Can Dance."

This new "Footloose" adds hip-hop, krumping and other flashy contemporary moves to a storyline that was already hokey when the original debuted back in the Reagan era.

All these decades later, "Footloose’s" premise — city kid shakes up a country town where dancing and live-it-up fun are literally against the law — still seems downright preposterous.

And in keeping with present-day Hollywood’s dumb-it-down, in-your-face approach, this do-over makes obvious, and literal, some of what the original seemed content to imply.

Then again, the target audience for this "Footloose" wasn’t even around when the original boogied into view, so maybe 2011 viewers won’t care.

After all, as the movie’s posters — and its main character — assert, "This is our time."

And it’s director Craig Brewer’s territory.

The filmmaker who gave you such steamy Southern sojourns as "Hustle and Flow" and "Black Snake Moan" has Georgia on his mind as he shifts the "Footloose" action there from the original’s Midwestern setting.

Once again, city kid Ren McCormack (Kenny Wormald of "Center Stage: Turn It Up") finds himself stuck in small-town exile.

The original Ren (Kevin Bacon) was dragged there by his mother following a divorce. This version does away with mom — literally.

After she succumbs to leukemia, Ren winds up in map-dot Bomont, Ga., moving in with his Uncle Wes ("The Blind Side’s" persuasive Ray McKinnon, a genuine Georgian) and Aunt Lulu (a quietly effective Kim Dickens), both of whom are much cooler than Ren thinks.

He’ll figure it out eventually, but not before he discovers what a cheerless, joyless place Bomont truly is.

Three years earlier, a night of drinking and dancing went horribly wrong, culminating in a traffic crash that killed several local teens, including the football-star son of the Rev. Shaw Moore (Dennis Quaid).

In response, Bomont’s powers that be, led by Moore, ban dancing and loud rock music, alienating the town’s teens in the process.

Including, and especially, Moore’s troubled daughter Ariel (former "Dancing with the Stars" regular Julianne Hough), who’s channeling her own grief into decidedly unangelic behavior with a bad-boy drag racer (surly Patrick John Flueger ). Just the same, Ariel can’t help feeling drawn to the baby-faced Ren, a rebel with a cause, even if it’s only trying to convince the fuddy-duddy town fathers that kids just wanna (and deserve to) have fun.

Reworking Dean Pitchford’s original script, Brewer retains many of the original’s key elements, from Ariel’s red kick-up-your-heels cowboy boots to Ren’s dance-it-out fury in an empty warehouse.

Yet the movie makes certain elements more literal than they need to be — especially the Rev. Moore’s emotional turmoil, which seems far more arbitrary this time around. (Younger audiences may miss the supreme irony of seeing an ex-hellraiser like Quaid try such a starchy role on for size.)

As a result, the new "Footloose" plays a lot simpler (and occasionally simplistic) than the original, putting the emphasis solely on the kids’ quest to stand up, and step out, for their inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of shaking their collective booty.

And on that score, "Footloose" definitely scores.

Hough may not be the emotionally expressive actress Lori Singer, the original Ariel, was. But she makes up for it in the dance department.

Similarly, the earnest baby-faced Wormald, a former Justin Timberlake backup dancer — born the year the original "Footloose" debuted — lacks the intensity Bacon brought to the role of Ren, but at least he does all his own dancing.

They make a comely couple, to be sure.

But "Footloose’s" standout performance belongs to "Rabbit Hole’s" Miles Teller, who’s a down-home hoot as Ren’s yokel buddy, Willard. His endearing efforts to transform himself from dance-floor klutz to smooth mover emerge as the movie’s most delightful sequence — thanks in part to Ren’s young nieces, who provide music for Willard’s dance lesson by performing "Let’s Hear It for the Boy" on their Barbie karaoke machine.

Something old, something new: that’s the formula this "Footloose" follows.

And while it’s no classic, at least it’s got a good beat and you can dance to it. Otherwise, what would be the point?

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0272.