“ we open with this insistent bongo music, and several elaborately sequined asses, grinding and shaking all over my television screen. Men and women salsa frantically, grinding their crotches into each other and bending one another over backwards. Maybe I'm getting old, but that just looks uncomfortable. ”
You know how some movies start out well, and then descend into the cheese? They lull you into a false sense of security, and you start to think that maybe you've tuned into something really worth watching, and then they smack you in the face with a big old block of cheddar? Yeah, well, this movie is the opposite of that. It leads with the cheese. It wears the cheese on its sleeve. The actors were paid in Camembert, and the sets were constructed from Swiss. The better to chew, you see. Anyway, we open with this insistent bongo music, and several elaborately sequined asses, grinding and shaking all over my television screen. Men and women salsa frantically, grinding their crotches into each other and bending one another over backwards. Maybe I'm getting old, but that just looks uncomfortable. We pull back from all the grinding to reveal that this is a video being watched by two women, both of whom are dressed far too provocatively for the office. They squeal as the lead dancer in the video thrusts his pelvis into the camera. These girls think he's the bee's knees, but he reminds me of nothing so much as Mango, the Chris Kattan character on Saturday Night Live -- you know, the male exotic dancer with the gold lam hot pants who slaps his ass all the time. The women's squeals are interrupted when a co-worker walks into the room, loaded down with papers and folders and all dressed in beige and pearls and conservative shoes. It's Annabeth Gish, but even though her name in this flick is, like, Annie or Amie, or something, I'm still going to refer to her as Moronica, like I do in the X-Files recaps, okay? Moronica looks at the television, where Mango is bending his partner in two. "Ouch. Is that even possible?" Moronica wonders. "Sister, he can bend me anyway he wants," Tramp #2 purrs. Moronica agrees that Mango is, indeed, spicy, but wonders whether he's the type you can "take him home to Mama." Tramp #1 hands Moronica a gift certificate and tells her to "find out." Moronica furrows her brow. "Salsa lessons?" she wonders. The Tramps dub it an "early wedding gift" and promise they'll go with her. Okay, to recap: Mango is a hot sexy salsa dancing freak. Moronica is buttoned-up and conservative and engaged. Her co-workers are trampy. Moving on. Moronica looks at the piece of paper and demurs. "Only two months until your wedding night. Gotta loosen you and Jason up," Tramp #1 giggles. "Get ready to shake it," Tramp #2 says, leaving Moronica with a pat. Alone, Moronica stares at Mango. She's not ready to accept it, but his wiggling booty and swinging pelvis have hypnotized her! She cannot resist the fiery temptations of salsa!
The Way She Moves
“ Also, Moronica's brother is a fireman. Make a note of that. It's important later, although, sadly, nothing catches on fire. Except Moronica's passion for the dance! ”
Cut to a lush estate with a huge pool. Fianc Jason lounges in said pool, admiring his own pecs and rubbing his wet athletic thighs. Fianc Jason is played by the guy who was Kelly's ill-fated fianc Matt on . I guess this guy specializes in ill-fated fiancs. Whoops! Did I give something away there? Anyway, Matt's not all fired up about these salsa lessons. He's a rich, good-looking WASP-y type, and therefore, he hates to dance. He has no dance inside him! No fire! No passion! He calls Moronica "babe"! He is what we old people used to refer to as "a yuppie." Moronica reminds him that the lessons were a gift, and tentatively suggests that they might be fun. Matt sneers that Moronica's not the dancing type, because she's always "hiding behind her camera." Moronica still wants to give it a shot. Finally, Matt reluctantly agrees, then gets up and tries to talk her into knocking boots in his parents' house. "They're gone," he points out, dripping all over her. Water, people. Get your minds out of the gutter. Moronica sighs that she'd feel funny having sex in his parents' house. "Your loss," Matt shrugs, and jogs off.
Cut to a less lavish estate. Okay, it's not actually an estate at all. It's a just a fairly large house where Moronica is sitting down for a meal with her mother and brother. Her mom is very negative about the salsa lessons, although I can't figure out why she'd even care. It's not like Moronica and Matt have decided to shave their heads bald and become Hari Krishnas. All Moronica's Mom wants to talk about is the upcoming wedding. Moronica is sick of talking about her nuptials to Soulless, Salsa-Free Matt. That's really all you need to know. Oh, also, Moronica's brother is a fireman. Make a note of that. It's important later, although, sadly, nothing catches on fire. Except Moronica's passion for the dance!
So, Moronica drives the Tramps to their salsa lesson, and patiently listens as the Tramps chatter about how rich Evil, Self-Absorbed Matt is. "You must have loved hearing those three words," Tramp #1 says. "'I love you'?" Moronica asks. "'Trust fund baby,'" Tramp #1 replies. The Tramps giggle. Moronica rolls her eyes as she stops the car at a red light. Then, for no reason whatsoever, the Tramps take off their tops and flash their breasts at the man in the car to them. Moronica shakes her head. I have no idea what just happened there.
The Way She Moves
“ The Tramps giggle and run inside. They're seriously dressed like whores. I'm not even exaggerating: Tramp #2 is wearing hot pants, a cropped top, and cowboy boots. Unless you're in the employ of the Dallas Cowboys cheerleading squad, that outfit is just wrong. ”
Finally, Moronica and the Tramps arrive at the dance studio. The Tramps giggle and run inside. They're seriously dressed like whores. I'm not even exaggerating: Tramp #2 is wearing hot pants, a cropped top, and cowboy boots. Unless you're in the employ of the Dallas Cowboys cheerleading squad, that outfit is just wrong. See, but while the Tramps could easily be picked up for solicitation and taken downtown, Moronica is wearing a gray long-sleeved top and sweatpants. Because she's conservative. And uptight. And not likely to unbutton her blouse at stop lights. Or use the word "boobies." Before she follows her friends into the studio, though, Moronica stops to take some photographs of the moon. Because she's an artist inside. A sensitive, conservative, artist. With a lusty, spicy side, just aching to get out! To be released...by the power of salsa!
Inside, Matt is waiting for them. "Circus in town?" he asks the Tramps as they giggle past him. He greets Moronica half-heartedly when she finally drifts into the studio. Matt and Moronica eventually catch up with Tramps and the rest of the beginning students, and watch the end of some kind of dance practice or advanced lesson taking place in their classroom. Mango and the advanced dancers grind around the floor. Moronica looks impressed and entranced. Entranced by the dance! Matt just looks disgusted. The Tramps look orgasmic. Dancing. Staring. Dancing. Panting. Dancing. Moronica stares at Mango, who's partnered with the same woman with whom he was dancing in the promotional video; she's a tall, manly-looking chick. At long last, the dance ends, and Mango flings Man-Woman away from him. She tosses her hair. "I didn't feel a thing from you!" she barks. "You finally noticed," Mango snips, and stalks away from her. Hey, this is just like the beginning of Strictly Ballroom. With salsa, instead of ballroom dancing. And without the charm. Or all those Australians. Anyway, the Fiery Latin Bickering -- because, you know, Latinos are fiery! They're emotional! They're passionate! -- eventually flickers out. The beginning dancers are welcomed to the studio by an older man, Ernesto, who is their instructor. Tramp #1 rudely wonders why Mango's not going to teach them. Ernesto wisely ignores her. I would have smacked her and kicked her out of my classroom. That's why I don't teach dance. Also, I'm uncoordinated.
And so they dance. Poorly. Shocking no one, Moronica and Matt suck. They have no rhythm! The have no fire! They have no passion! Ernesto talks about trusting one's partner, and spouts all kinds of dance-equals-life-type metaphors, and then takes Moronica away from Matt in order to demonstrate a move. Moronica steps on Ernesto's foot, and they bang heads. Ernesto rubs his scalp and puts Moronica back together with Matt, who is becoming more soulless and more salsa-free with each moment. "To truly let go, the woman must trust her partner. She must have confidence to surrender to the man," Ernesto intones. Surrender! To the man! To the dance!