COLUMN: Footloose

Normal people's brains at midnight: Wow, it's really late. I'm very tired. I'm going to bed.

MY brain at midnight: Wow, it's really late. I'm very tired. I'm going to think about the movie "Footloose" for the next two hours.

Why my noggin occasionally shifts into overdrive in the pitch middle of the night is beyond me, but I've become accustomed to just riding it out. Why "Footloose" was tonight's topic du jour is anyone's guess, but it's likely because a friend of mine is directing an upcoming high school production of Footloose: The Musical (and if you fancy a drive to Monmouth-Roseville High come March 17-19, I have it on good authority that it's gonna be awesome. Spoiler alert: everybody cuts footloose.)

Here's a horrible confession that just might destroy my 80's pop culture street cred: I'm not sure I've ever seen Footloose all the way through. I've seen pieces here and there, but I'm not sure if I've ever sat down and watched it front to back. Truth be told, even 80's Shane found the movie kinda silly. 

As I recall, the plot goes something like this: Kevin Bacon plays Ren, an all-around cool teenage dude whose sole passion in life seems to be donning a pair of headphones and dancing around abandoned barns in slow-motion montages. Ren and his mom have just moved from Chicago to a rural town that hasn't received the memo about the whole separation-of-church-and-state thing. The citizens there are controlled by their conservative minister, who has convinced the town council to ban dancing, secular music, and essentially fun in general.

Rebellious Ren won't stand for that, so he does a lot of clandestine barn dancing, gives an impassioned speech to the town council, and eventually the minister relents and allows funkiness back into the lives of one and all, culminating in a senior prom for the ages. Presumably everyone lives happily ever after and are now raising their own children on a steady diet of Cardi B. and Skrillex.

I have questions.

Let's say you grew up in a town that has banned dancing. No one you know has ever danced. You might not even know what dancing IS. But then along comes this rebellious troublemaker with his big city tales of this mythical "dancing" you've only heard spoken of in whispers. This city slicker woos you with his devil tongue, telling you how amazing and free and wonderful it is to dance. You're enthralled by the concept. Eventually the unthinkable happens, good wins out, and you're allowed to have a school prom where you can finally, for the first time in your life, dance with carefree abandon.

You know what would happen? You would be the WORST dancer in the world, like, ever. We're talking Elaine Benes levels of bad dancing. Having never once even considered shaking your booty ever in your entire life, how would you even know what to do? You WOULDN'T. You'd be in a school gymnasium with 250 other absolutely rhythmless teenagers, gyrating randomly while continually apologizing to your date for repeatedly kicking her in the head while you were trying to bust a funky move. It would be an unmitigated disaster (but an amazing home movie for the ages.)

But that doesn't happen in Footloosetown. No, in the big prom scene at the end of the movie, all it takes is three seconds of the title track to play, and suddenly this packed gym full of never-danced-before children are suddenly pulling moves like professionals. One of them busts a full breakdance routine out of thin air.  

Also keep in mind, this town hasn't just banned dancing. They've banned all secular music in the first place. This is the first time these kids are ever hearing songs that aren't psalms. And yet, they all seem to strangely know the tune "Footloose" the second it starts. They know when the chorus is about to drop. They know where the bridge is. In fact, for a song they've never ever heard before, they somehow manage to spontaneously craft and perform a synchronized dance routine to it.

All of which can only lead us to one possible conclusion: KENNY LOGGINS IS A WORLOCK. How else can a dumb three-minute song suddenly get Louise, Jack, Marie, Milo, and everyone in the place to kick off their Sunday shoes and cut footloose? Clearly, Kenny Loggins is a dark wizard who can turn teenagers around, put their feet on the ground, and take ahold of their souls. Clearly, he must be stopped before he reaches... the danger zone.

But Ren really IS a hero, because he missed a delicious opportunity to conduct a cruel sociological experiment. If this town had truly succeeded in banning secular music, none of these kids would have ANY idea what secular music even IS, right? They wouldn't know a rock from a roll. You could've played them ANYTHING and told them it was the rebellious rock music they'd been missing out on. You could've played them "Elvira" by the Oak Ridge Boys. You could've played them Barney the Dinosaur. You could've played them a tape loop of a laughing hyena and been like, "doesn't this ROCK?" And then comes the REAL test of persuasion and peer pressure: Would those kids then still create a choreographed dance routine to laughing hyenas just because ONE dude from Chicago showed up and told them it was cool? I think it would've happened.

Sorry to waste so much time thinking about Footloose, but I strangely feel it's important to avoid any future scenarios where we encourage children to dance to laughing hyenas, even though it would be RIDICULOUSLY funny. And sorry to the 1980s for buzzkilling one of your most iconic pop culture offerings - I promise to never diss Ferris Bueller or The Lost Boys. But mostly I'm sorry to all my friends who woke up to a 2 a.m. text from me: "Kenny Loggins: Worlock? Discuss."

I was REALLY tired.