A moment after we’re first introduced to Lakshmi (the immensely talented Ditya), we’re shown a closeup of her feet. She’s the kind of girl who goes to sleep wearing shoes just so she can get up and dance the moment she’s awake.
And later, when she’s been called to the school principal’s office for dancing too much, she can’t help but break into a number the second a phone starts ringing. Yet even though the film is set in 2018, she’s not from the kind of home where her talent is encouraged. “Why don’t you join music, tennis or badminton classes after school,” asks Lakshmi’s mom, not giving her daughter the option to dance.
Apparently dancing is in her blood and there’s a convenient little back story which explains why. So when she joins a dancing school without her mother’s knowledge, she easily finds people to back her.
What follows is a barrage of cliches you’ve seen in most sports/dance films. The envious competitor, a selfish teacher, the corrupt event organiser, they’re all there and more. There’s always a sense of ‘ ‘we’ve-seen-this-before’ feeling while watching the film and that’s why we switch off so easily when it’s not a dance sequence on the screen.
The drama and the conflicts are surprisingly generic and we’re hardly connected to any character expect for Lakshmi’s. Ditya, who plays Lakshmi, isn’t really the best of actors and it becomes easy to spot, given her dialogue delivery, which I assume is in Hindi.
Yet we seem to pardon her for this each time she’s on stage and in her elements. Like Stallone or Schwarzenegger, we forgive the acting when it’s time for action. Aided well by Sam’s specific-to-a dance-film music, the film’s most enjoyable when there’s a performance.
Which isn’t saying much given that there are plenty of reality shows that offer you the same.
Director Vijay, who seems to enjoy switching between genres with each film, has done little to show us more than what’ve already seen. It’s about time someone asks director Vijay to Step Up.