MAO'S LAST DANCER

Mao's Last Dancer is one of those well-meaning rousing biopics that is relatively compelling while watching it, sticks in your craw long enough for you to Google the real person when you get home, then is completely gone from your subconscious by the next morning.

A young boy in 1960s communist China is plucked from his family and his village by the government, as he has shown potential to be a world-class dancer. Studying in Beijing through his teen years, Li Cunxin lacks discipline, but as soon as he finds inspiration (from a teacher with too much spark for the authorities), Li flourishes in the company.

An extremely rare opportunity is presented to Li, and he is allowed to go to America for a season to dance with a company in Houston run by Ben Stevenson (Bruce Greenwood). You have your typical fish-out-of-water scenario, with Li going to a disco, wide-eyed, learning about slang, and being offended at the outrageous (in his mind) money thrown at buying him new "fashionable" clothes. But he has no problem quickly finding a love interest, and unforseen circumstances allow him to break out of shadows and become a bonafide star in the company, despite the fact that he is there only for a short time (or so you'd think!).

Mao's Last Dancer is a bit wobbly narratively, switching from Li's youth in communist China (where he is played by Chengwu Guo), and his time in "modern" 1970s Houston (where he is played by Chi Cao). Both actors are fine, if not exceptional, but Chi Cao (a professional dancer for the Birmingham Royal Ballet) is an absolute delight to watch in the dancing scenes. As the onscreen audience crushes on Li, dancing in a Spanish matador outfit, his hair swept back, and his eyes heavily lined, you could feel the same response from the movie audience. He is lovely to watch dance, and even as an actor, he is pretty darn adorable.

Director Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy) is one of those completely capable directors that doesn't have a lot of distinctive flair to make a story pop from the screen (see Ron Howard's films for another director with this same problem).  For instance, in a strange touch, Beresford doesn't trust the dancing itself to be enough (and it IS!), adding a couple of distractingly bizarre camera-tricks, making my friend and I scratch our heads in bafflement. The film also suffers from having a climax right in the middle of the film (when Li decides to defect), then... it just goes on slowly, staggering to another dramatic peak. Beresford has a great story in his hands, so it is too bad really that this movie ultimately isn't as memorable as Li Cunxin himself.

But if you have your doubts whether you should stick around, whether you want wait for an ending that you just know will squeeze some tears from you, well, just take note that of course there is a climactic final dance scene. Watch Mao's Last Dancer not for the rather clunkily-handled dramatic arc, but for Chi Cao. He is truly beautiful, and is lovely to watch in motion.