JIG

From the sublime to the (seemingly) ridiculous I’ve  done
a balletic leap from reviewing Dancemaker, the profile on modern dance genius choreographer
Paul Taylor, to a documentary that trailed various assorted kids of different
ages and sizes around world as  they get
ready to dance their wee sturdy legs off in the 40th World Irish
Dance Championships.  Each movie was
totally exhilarating and joyously entertaining in completely different ways,
although after sitting through ‘Jig’ I was emotionally drained.

For those of us that first became aware of Irish Dancing
when Michael Flatly burst onto our television screens, and then all over the
world’s stages some 20 years ago, you may be shocked to know that its been
around for several hundred years and is revered as a traditional art form.
However after watching this new movie I just assumed that it started in the
1940’s as for some inexplicable reason that was never ever explained all the
wee tots of young girls that take their dancing (too) seriously, without single
exception, dress up with hideous curly Shirley Temple wigs piled up high on
their heads and topped with a sparkling diamante coronet!  I mean its actually in keeping with the
garish brightly colored heavily embroidered dresses they wear them with, all
finished with so much make-up plastered on their young childish faces that one would think that they were training to be hookers and not hoofers!

Asides from their very strange attire I was in total
awe of how this odd bunch of kids totally dedicate every single waking moment
of their young lives to this highly specialized style of dance which looks like
a killer to perfect, and far too weird too watch for too long a time.  Sue Bourne’s film kept pace with several of them as
they practiced their rigorous competition routines at Irish Dance schools all around
the world (who knew there were so many, and more importantly who knew that all
the teachers are sadistic  bullies!) 

We follow a teenage boy whose parents gave up work and
sold up their home in sunny California so that he could get the best training in Birmingham
UK (think Detroit without car factories). 
But by then we had learnt that for any kid to succeed in this field, the
parents must pay dearly and suffer. The mother of 10-year-old John aka Irish
Dancing’s own Billy Elliot spends every penny of her wages keeping him dancing
even though her working class family really cannot afford it.

We even get to watch some young Russian women who
discovered Irish dancing late in life (but how, or why, I’m not sure) and they are
trying to train to enter their entire group in the ‘Worlds’ as everyone calls
the championships.  Their hopes of glory
are shattered before they even get there as half the team are refused Visas to
travel.

By the time we reach the Competition itself in Scotland filmmaker Sue Bourne has
ensured that we have our hopes heavily invested in all the young hopefuls, and her tightly
edited film has us on the edges of our seats exactly like the parents who have
been there before, many many times.  Once
they started dancing, it was way too difficult to differentiate who were the real
stars, as they all seemed to frenetically flail themselves over the stage each one with
their straight rigid backs and their arms never ever lifting from their sides
even once.

The young Californian won a genuine standing
ovation  from people other than his
parents  so we knew he was a definite champion.  But the others had to endure
this excruciatingly painful and sadistic procedure where each of the judges
scores (they can award anything from 1 – 1000) are called out in turn for the
every candidate in order and so you’ll have to be mathematical genius to add these
diverse figures up instantly in your head. 
It did however make for good viewing watching the tiny tots and they parents faces
as they desperately tried to work out if they should cheer or cry.  Only after every single figure is read, do they finally announce the winner, but by that time I had no fingernails left.

The good news is that even in you get placed 10th
you get a medal. The bad news is that in each section, there is only one World
Champion.  And the next chance to try for the
title is another long year away with many many more hours of grueling practices
and many more of those hideous wigs to wear and sparkly dresses to buy.

I loved every single foot stomping minute of it.  It was a sheer joy of a movie even though I
would never ever EVER want to go to sit through a live performance. If you loved ‘Mad Hot Ballroom’, you’ll love this one too.

★★★★★★★★