
As to the romance that could've salvaged Dance, Dance, let's just say that the spark-less relationship between the dance diva (Hwang In-yeong) and her shy protege (Yang, as mentioned above) is a platonic one that probably won't outlast the credits. What draws them together? She's respectful of his having a career outside dance and tickled by his enthusiasm for the form. As to her attractions for him, outside of a killer waistline, she's really representing the artist's way more than she's inspiring love or lust or longing for the unattainable. He's not so much infatuated with her as he is fantasizing about being her, about being a dancer, an artist, someone not so square as he so helplessly, hopelessly is. I wouldn't go so far as to say his character is gay but if he is, he's the kind of quietly repressed gay who's so out-of-touch with his inner life that he probably won't realize his sexual orientation until he's 40 and then only after he's taken a dance class for nostalgia's sake at the community center. In summation, Dance, Dance has no inspiring journey of self-discovery, no good guys vs. bad guys drama, no sappy love story, no knock-your-socks off dance routines -- unless you count a brief clip of a trio of guys spinning on their heads. Which I won't.
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