独领风潮 Take the Lead review by KIM MORGAN

And, in terms of Antonio Banderas, this is a good thing. The compelling actor, who has long been chocked up as mere sizzle (the man could make baking muffins a passionate, smoldering experience), has always managed to magically combine his movie-star good looks with a winking sense of humor about himself. He's charming, funny, and believably passionate. He's also very fun to watch when he's dancing.

So the tale of a debonair ballroom-dance instructor taking on inner-city teens is perfect material for the Spanish stunner. The film is inspired by the true story of Pierre Dulaine, the swanky gentleman who brought ballroom dancing to New York's inner-city public schools (seen in the documentary Mad Hot Ballroom). And Banderas does Dulaine proud—the movie may be a bit dorky, but he is not.

We don't really know why Dulaine pitches the idea of ballroom dance to tough, seen-it-all high school principal Augustine James (Alfre Woodard), but somehow he talks her into it. She laughs over the concept, expecting the chivalrous gentleman, who opens doors for every lady who walks into the office, to tank the first day—these kids are unruly, un-teachable, and un-motivated. Ah yes, but have they met the merengue?

Well, no, they haven't. Preferring Kanye West to Cole Porter, the motley crew of teens is irritated, even amusingly freaked out by Dulaine and his attempts not only to teach them to dance, but to respect one another. As expected, however, they come around, starting off with box steps, and nervously trying to miss stepping on each other's toes—something that's more endearing than it has any right to be. And, of course, within this assortment of body shapes, races, and personalities, there are those who show some real talent and hidden drive—drive that comes from growing up in families that are dangerous and/or depressing.

The kids' real lives are given the typical dramatic curve (will a teen choose to engage in violence or make it to the dance competition?), but there are some highpoints. In one scene, a character rushes out of her mother's apartment after her mom's prospective trick attacks her. The moment could be washed away as mere melodrama, except she sneaks into a boiler room and dances to Sly and the Family Stone's version of "Que Sera, Sera," utilizing some of the steps Dulaine has taught her. It's a sweetly touching sequence that could melt the coldest, most cynical heart.

And, in turn, that sort of heart-melting quality applies to the movie as a whole. Yes, it's corny. Yes, it's formulaic. Yes, it's thin. But watching Banderas work the waltzing To Sir, With Love angle is just so winning, you can't help but fall for the thing.

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