Hola all. Massawyrm here.

Well, Harry’s been interviewing Cameron. Quint is off to Sundance. Moriarty is seeing powerful films that are convincing him to get a vasectomy. So you know what that means? It means I get the honor, nay, the privilege of covering such incendiary filmmaking as…Stomp the Yard. You know, we each have our special parts to play here at AICN, and sometimes it’s nice to get the glory assignments. The much sought after and fought for assignments. Like seeing films. Like Stomp the Yard.

Look. I don’t care how much Bass you put in your music. I don’t care how slick or street your clothes are. I don’t care how nigh topless the women running around with you manage to be without getting arrested. There is nothing, NOTHING, even remotely fucking manly about having a dance off with another man. Nothing. No, I’m sorry there’s nothing you can do. Add those pretty, explosive backlamps used in Rap videos. Shoot it all slick and raw. Call it clownin’ if you want to. But when your ass is gyrating while making eye contact with another man…well, you might as well just pop on over to Amazon to order yourself a couple of Will & Grace box sets and a turquoise bracelet there Suzie. You ain’t manly. Not in the way you think.

I know, I know. Krump is COOL. There’s even a killer documentary about it. It’s now considered alright by the youth of America to get together at clubs and settle their disputes through interpretative dance. I know it’s always been my dream to throw down a few moves to work things out with the phone company, but that ain’t the American way. No. The American way involves this becoming cool for a few years every decade or so, until it fades away and becomes decidedly uncool. For the rest of your life.

Youth of America, I come to you from the future, a future 10 years down the road when you’re at an office Christmas party and Bill from accounting begins to Krump to an old “fi’ty” track on someone’s iPod. You will roll your eyes and you will laugh. Because that shit was tired and weak YEARS ago. Believe me, I know. I’ve been there. Once upon a time I owned and enjoyed a Vanilla Ice record. Yes. RECORD. I learned to dance by watching C&C Music Factory videos, mastering such difficult maneuvers as The Running Man, The Roger Rabbit and even a bit of The Cabbage Patch. I even longed after the eagerly awaited and very short lived HYPERCOLOR SHORTS. Oh yes. Smack it up, flip it, rub it down. Oh no.

But those days are over, my friends. So you may be asking yourself Wyrm, if you were into that embarrassingly bad garbage in the past, how dare you condemn us for keepin’ it real and throwin’ down with the mad skillz? Well, that’s kinda the point. You see. I can’t. There are gonna be some assholes out there this week that are going to joke about Stomp the Yard being Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo (hey, speaking of days long gone, remember when that joke was funny?) but it ain’t. This is Breakin’. Without the ‘electric.’

Look, every few years we’ve gotta endure this. There will inevitably be a new dance craze as the next generation tries to distance itself from the previous lot, and studio suits will always try to capitalize on that. A few days ago, in Harry’s monthly DVD piece, he referred to Rock around the Clock and Twist Around the Clock, saying how they just didn’t make films like this anymore. I contend that they sure as fuck do – he just has minions to go and see them for him now. Really, this is no different than those films. Or Breakin’. Or Lambada: The Forbidden Dance. Or Dirty Dancing. Or Xanadu. As long as there are teenagers, there will be dance trends, disposable income and studio suits trying to make one from the other. Which brings us to Stomp the Yard.

Look, odds are you have zero interest in this film. And if that’s the case, this film has nothing for you. At all. It wasn’t made for you. You’ve seen this story a billion times before. The new kid in town with a past falls in love with someone else’s girl causing complications that just so happens to find its only resolution at the business end of a Dance Off. And we all know how that story ends right? Well, all of us except those too young to have seen it several times already. There’s a reason this is Rated PG-13, guys.

But, if for some reason you fall into the category of those interested in this film – or you’re the parent or older sibling of someone who is – I can’t knock it. For what it is it does a fine job of doing what it does. It zeroes in on its audience and nails them. The dance scenes are shot exquisitely, and while giving off a very music video vibe (something that’s become an off the cuff demeaning insult these days) it is visually interesting and will definitely entertain anyone who wants to see this for the dancing – which is well done in its own right.

And while I laughed repeatedly at the hokey-ness and unrepentant predictability of this thing, I also laughed at several points I was supposed to – during a few clever character moments and at a couple of well placed lines. But the audience around me was simply going nuts. Everyone who had shown up excited by the prospect of this film hooted, hollered and gasped throughout and all left with smiles on their faces. It almost had the energy of a BNAT crowd. It was insane. These folks wanted to love it and they did.

And I couldn’t hate it. As much as this comes across as a big ol’ bag o’ clichés, and takes itself way too seriously, it delivers to those who want to take it seriously. It certainly is no Roll Bounce which took a very similar premise and had a shit load of tongue in cheek fun with it – but it isn’t bad. No. This is Drumline with a new Nick Cannon. Same movie, different skill set.

Overall its got a positive message, and while some may take issue with it being something of a recruitment video for fraternities, the strong attempt at pushing education and personal growth as a primary drive far overshadows that. If you have a daughter or a younger sibling - or heaven forbid, a significant other - dying to see this, it isn’t gonna kill you to sit through it. In fact, you might find yourself enjoying the comfortable familiarity and inherent goofiness of grown men posturing and acting tough…over their ability to bust a move. But you certainly can’t hate it.

Stomp the Yard is one of those rare films that you already know whether or not you’re going to enjoy before you even walk in the theatre. It’s either for you or its not.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

Smack it up, flip it, rub it down…or send it here. Oh no!