Shall We Dansu

That's not a typo, that's the proper title of the 1997 Japanese sleeper hit that spawned the unfortunate 2004 American remake with correct spelling. I had the bad luck of watching that particular train wreck a few years ago with a roommate - I'll watch almost anything if it's free. At the time, I didn't know it wasn't an original film, until my husband enlightened me. Looking for a feel-good Friday film to watch while doped out on Tylenol Cold & Sinus, Shall We Dansu fit the bill quite well.

The film opens with a voice-over explaining how, in a culture in which husbands and wives don't even hold hands in public, the intimate embraces of Western ballroom dancing are regarded with deep suspicion. Our protagonist, Mr. Sugiyama (a wonderful, subtle performance by screen regular Koji Yakusho), is an accountant who, by 45 or so, has attained all of his goals - he is married, has a lovely teenage daughter, and has recently managed to buy them a house - with a yard. In a country so squeezed for space, this is huge. And that's the problem - having attained all his life goals, he feels lost and a bit depressed, because he sees nothing more to work toward. Going home on the train each night, he begins to notice a dance school visible from one of the train stops, and a lovely woman at the window. He eventually succumbs to temptation, overcomes the shame of entering a dance school, and begins to take lessons. Though his fascination is originally with the lovely young instructor - who turns out not to be his teacher - he gradually discovers the love of dance itself, and becomes a part of this joyful, somewhat clandestine community, along with his fellow male students (including a co-worker, the absolutely delightful Naoko Takenaka), and winds up partnering with a flamboyant widow in the Japanese Amateur Dance competition. Behind all this, his wife, originally happy that he is staying out and having some fun at night after a hard day's work, becomes suspicious of his routine and his perfume-scented shirts, and hires a comforting and hilarious private detective to confirm or deny her worst fears.

Seeing a story re-told in the context of a cultural polar opposite - in this case, the U.S.A. - sharply highlights the differences between the two. There are many reasons why this simply didn't translate as an American story. For one thing, in the U.S., a businessman taking up ballroom dancing may be regarded as eccentric, or endure some jokes about his sexual orientation, but it's hardly taboo in this highly sexualized environment. In Japan, a businessman taking up ballroom dancing risks losing all respect from his co-workers, and perhaps his family, for engaging in such public intimacy, and endures accusations of being a pervert. This is a far more serious situation than being the butt of a few jokes, and much more tense as the Japanese man actually has a lot to lose.

Another significant contrast between the two films is the fact that the Japanese actually value the hard work required to achieve the nice house, etc. - at the beginning of the film, Sugiyama's wife speaks of how she's glad that he's going out because he deserves it, for working so hard; she is happy for him, even though it means she's alone more at night, and his daughter also recognizes that her father is doing a good thing for them by working long hours. Sugiyama's American counterpart, however, is resented by his family for being away working the long hours that provide their material comforts. And, in the American version, the businessman is actually having a hardcore emotional affair, since it needs this tension due to the fact that the mere act of ballroom dancing provides no tension at all in this context.

But, the most striking contrast of all is that the American version is a film about the self. Though it includes the same cast of characters as the original, it's all about self-actualization and individual happiness, whereas the original is a story about community and the joy of partaking in an activity together. This is emphasized when the businessman and the young teacher finally share a dance - and instead of being alone on the floor, all about them, the whole room joins in. Shall We Dance? is a film about self-actualization and the fulfillment of the individual. Shall We Dansu is a film about...dance, and the essential core of community that is at the heart of the sport.

You'd think filmmakers would have learned just how much Japanese stories don't translate well into Western ones just from The Magnificent Seven - the most spectacular failure of a film I've ever seen, even before watching The Seven Samurai. Our two cultures are so very different; there is simply no equivalent in the West for most of the issues facing the Japanese. I must admit, I often feel extra-specially selfish after watching a Japanese film, because the majority of the are actual ensemble pieces, not simply in terms of having a large cast, but in terms of being a story about a community. There's a lot for us to re-learn from them.

Shall We Dansu is a beautiful, strong, thoroughly uplifting and well-executed tale, and nicely affirming of marriage. In my favourite exchange of the film, at the very beginning, Mrs. Sugiyama is telling her daughter at breakfast about how she feels badly that Mr. Sugiyama works so hard for them, and must get up so early, before both of them, and eats all alone. Her daughter asks, then why don't you get up and make breakfast for him?, to which she smiles and replies, because he says I don't have to. Her daughter says, "so that's what love is?", and she responds with a smile. Shall We Dansu says a lot about the sacrificial nature of love.

Ignore the remake, rent the original, and enjoy.