The saying is “six degrees of Kevin Bacon.” It is turning, for me, into “six degrees of Footloose.”
As a kid, I love, love, loved the movie Footloose. Kevin Bacon was so cute with his spiked hair and his dance moves in his signature yellow VW bug jamming to the Police. Kenny Loggins songs fluttered through the film and made us all mimic the different dance moves. We all loved Ren. We all despised Ariel’s dad. We all felt that Ariel looked like she was 40. But, we all cheered at the end. Loved it.
Many moons later, or over 25 if we really want to get technical (hey, I was young when the first one came out – I didn’t even have a training bra), Footloose returns to the big screen. I am a little anxious thinking about it. I don’t want it to ruin the original, although I HATED the lead female in the original film.
I remember when we watched it – first at the movie theater and then on our VCR. It was the beginning of “break-dancing” and “line-dancing” and more. It directly faced the issue of religion versus dancing (similar to the ongoing debate of rock-n-roll versus religion since the 1950s).
Footloose has a lot of history in my marriage. I know that sounds strange, but I have choreographed the musical Footloose for two different high schools, one being where my husband is the drama director. For a two full years in my adult life, Footloose was all I could think about. Everybody cut, everybody cut. Yikes.
And now, the fateful opening night of the revival film (I say revival because even the car looks the same) and I am already singing, “Let’s hear it for the boys” in my head.
Kevin Bacon – you will always be Ren to me. Everybody cut Footloose.