Country:
USA
Recognizable Faces:
Prince Ken Swift
Directed By:
Benson Lee
Let me tell you a story. Once, maybe five or six years ago, I bounced at this very popular club in downtown Montreal. I replaced a friend who called in sick that night. It was one of my first times as a bouncer so I didn't knew what to expect. My duty that night was to patrol the stage and make sure no one would touch the giant projector screen. Easy job until 11:30 PM maybe, when a bunch of young guys in baggy clothes ask me whether or not they can dance on stage. I told them: "Sure, but there are no chicks to impress here, guys". One of them answers: "We don't care about the chicks we're here to dance". What I didn't know was that these guys were breakdancers, b-boys as you might call them. They were only looking for an unused piece of floor to pull their airborne moves on. That night, the b-boy crew left with every girl in a hundred feet radius. They hinted me into something.
Fast-Forward to last Friday, Josie and I decided, innocently enough, to watch Planet B-Boy, which happened to be the logical continuation of that bouncing night, all those years ago. Benson Lee's documentary covers the journey of different elite breakdancing crews around the world, to the Battle Of The Year, which is the b-boying equivalent of the world championships. Two South Korean crews, one Japanese, one American and one French crew are the cast of Planet B-Boy. The movie focuses around the inner struggles of their members and about how dancing gives them a pause from who they are, from the reality around them and gives them hope of something better than the daily struggle. Katsu, from Japan, is wrestling with the last , unhappy memories of his father. Joe, from Korea, seeks the approval of his, while Lil Kev' from France has to live with the racism of his parents (Lil' Kev is twelve, the interviews of him with his mother are a riot)
Planet B-Boy made me understand why young people like dancing better than any of those melodramatic Hollywoodian movies like Step-Up 3D. Breakdancing, especially the battle ritual is a fight without any blows delivered. The auras of two crews clash together and try to win the crowd over. Despite the aggressive energy and the confrontational antics, it's a festive culture. The crowd is a part of the process and most important, these kids are having fun, pulling all sorts of acrobatic stunts and mixing them together in a seamless chain for aesthetic purpose. We're far from the fart-faced actors from the Hollywood garbage flicks who want to "express their soul", the same way somebody deals with the aftermath of a bad Chinese buffet. This is the real deal. Kids without much, devoted to reach an absolute, despite the reality of the world who might just pass them by. Yep, they are artists.
The story who touched me the most was the Japanese Crew Ichigeki. They had been in the Battle Of The Year in 2002, three years before the one shown in the documentary. They had lamentably failed because they wanted to win so bad, they lost the pleasure to dance. During the shooting, Katsu, one of the members, recalled the last moments with his father, where he tried to convince him to quit dancing and to go to college. Katsu and the members of his family are obviously living in the shadow of this moment, but before the Battle Of The Year, in front of the camera, they tell each other things they never told each other before and it's very touching to see them strangling with emotion. At the Battle, they put on a show so memorable, it's still seen today as probably the best presentation ever on the Battle Of The Year. But most important, Ichigeki looked like they had such a blast on stage, it was a thing of beauty.
The aim of a documentary is to make you understand the world a little better. Breakdancing and dancing in general was something I never really related to before that, but Planet B-Boy made me understand why it's a movement that transcended a generation and that beat the demons of capitalism who tried to transform B-Boying into a fad during the eighties. When inspired people go to work, nothing can beat them. Not the odds, not even life itself. Do yourself a favor and watch Planet B-Boy whenever you have a few hours to yourself. It's available from Netflix. You will thank me afterward.
SCORE: 95%
Fast-Forward to last Friday, Josie and I decided, innocently enough, to watch Planet B-Boy, which happened to be the logical continuation of that bouncing night, all those years ago. Benson Lee's documentary covers the journey of different elite breakdancing crews around the world, to the Battle Of The Year, which is the b-boying equivalent of the world championships. Two South Korean crews, one Japanese, one American and one French crew are the cast of Planet B-Boy. The movie focuses around the inner struggles of their members and about how dancing gives them a pause from who they are, from the reality around them and gives them hope of something better than the daily struggle. Katsu, from Japan, is wrestling with the last , unhappy memories of his father. Joe, from Korea, seeks the approval of his, while Lil Kev' from France has to live with the racism of his parents (Lil' Kev is twelve, the interviews of him with his mother are a riot)
Planet B-Boy made me understand why young people like dancing better than any of those melodramatic Hollywoodian movies like Step-Up 3D. Breakdancing, especially the battle ritual is a fight without any blows delivered. The auras of two crews clash together and try to win the crowd over. Despite the aggressive energy and the confrontational antics, it's a festive culture. The crowd is a part of the process and most important, these kids are having fun, pulling all sorts of acrobatic stunts and mixing them together in a seamless chain for aesthetic purpose. We're far from the fart-faced actors from the Hollywood garbage flicks who want to "express their soul", the same way somebody deals with the aftermath of a bad Chinese buffet. This is the real deal. Kids without much, devoted to reach an absolute, despite the reality of the world who might just pass them by. Yep, they are artists.
The story who touched me the most was the Japanese Crew Ichigeki. They had been in the Battle Of The Year in 2002, three years before the one shown in the documentary. They had lamentably failed because they wanted to win so bad, they lost the pleasure to dance. During the shooting, Katsu, one of the members, recalled the last moments with his father, where he tried to convince him to quit dancing and to go to college. Katsu and the members of his family are obviously living in the shadow of this moment, but before the Battle Of The Year, in front of the camera, they tell each other things they never told each other before and it's very touching to see them strangling with emotion. At the Battle, they put on a show so memorable, it's still seen today as probably the best presentation ever on the Battle Of The Year. But most important, Ichigeki looked like they had such a blast on stage, it was a thing of beauty.
The aim of a documentary is to make you understand the world a little better. Breakdancing and dancing in general was something I never really related to before that, but Planet B-Boy made me understand why it's a movement that transcended a generation and that beat the demons of capitalism who tried to transform B-Boying into a fad during the eighties. When inspired people go to work, nothing can beat them. Not the odds, not even life itself. Do yourself a favor and watch Planet B-Boy whenever you have a few hours to yourself. It's available from Netflix. You will thank me afterward.
SCORE: 95%
