Planet B-Boy

Busting out of the status quo box
Documentary examines how breakdancing is a way to express individuality in a conformist society

Katherine Monk
Canwest News Service

Planet B-Boy

A documentary by Benson Lee

PG: (coarse language)
Running time: 101 minutes
Rating: 3

If you can get past the obvious hurdle of hearing young men with heavy German and Korean accents talking about their deep, personal connection to breakdancing and black urban culture, you're in for some raw adrenalin -- and an eye-opening globetrot in Benson Lee's Planet B-Boy.

A documentary that seems to begin as a socio-anthropological study of the breakdancing movement, B-Boy evolves into a deeper examination of male bonding, manly competition and the key factors that lead to artistic internationalism.

Because Lee opts for a style that uses only interviews as voice-over, without an actual narrative track, most of the revelations aren't formally announced. They simply wash over the viewer between eye-popping frames as the emotional context begins to sink in, and we hear each dancer talk about what drew him (these are men-only dance crews) to the performance-oriented sport.

In a lot of cases, it's a need for community in the face of a less-than ideal family life. For some, it's about finding fame and fortune. For a lot of others -- especially the conscription-age South Koreans -- it's about discovering a way to express your inner self in a society that demands conformity.

Listening to an array of young men divulging their deep insecurities, as well as their unwavering love of family is undeniably moving, and this film features more than one or two of those moments.

One of the most touching scenes comes from a Japanese breakdancer named Katsu who stands with his mother and brother in their family's shop. At first, the entire group is stone-faced as they talk about the dancer in the family, but when the mother says she hopes her son just dances for the love of it, and not the money, their faces change. When the son responds by saying he had no idea how much his mother understood his dancing, and his need to do it, they all quietly tear up in unison.

Lee doesn't miss the emotional content in his viewfinder, and that not only speaks well of his capacity for empathy, it speaks to his filmmaker's instincts.

Frequently, documentary filmmakers miss the deeper truths in their stories because they're simply too focused on trying to find a specific ingredient, or warping the content to fit an editorial perspective.

Lee doesn't seem to have any formal plan whatsoever, and in that regard, the film suits the freewheeling spirit of its subject matter because the "beat-boy" movement is all about articulating raw emotion through moves.

As the experts tell us, there are no formal techniques that must be followed. Each position can be embellished or reimagined, and every dancer is free to interpret the music in the way that suits him best.

So from the very beginning, when beat-boys made their mainstream debut as glorified set decor in the movie Flashdance, the jaw-dropping moves have always been associated with free expression, and busting out of the status quo box.

Though Lee doesn't take us through a genealogical chart, or a critical flow of breakdancing's evolution, he captures a lot of the history through the interviews as competitors vie for the title of best dance crew in the world.

Filmed in the lead up to the 2005 title competition in Germany, Planet B-Boy proves just how international the athletic dance style has become as crews from Japan and Korea top the Americans in all areas -- a fact the Americans find intolerable, but viewers will no doubt find amusing.

With just enough vulnerability to offset the crotch-grabbing bravado, and a clear sense for the bigger picture, Lee's movie may not be comprehensive, but it finds the beating heart of a hypnotic dance movement and delivers its rhythmic magic with mind-blowing dance sequences.

© The Vancouver Sun 2008