Can Jig do for Irish dancing what Spellbound did for spelling bees?
Let’s face it: Michael Flatley, infamous for his Riverdance shows, has been both a blessing and a curse for Irish dancing. On the one hand, his popularity has skyrocketed Irish dance to international consciousness but at the same time, stigmatized this traditional social dance into a campy affair. Director Sue Bourne presents Jig, a documentary that attempts to rise above its diamante encrusted dresses to uncover a set of thoughtful dancers, clearly talented from the very first step. Jig’s subjects are interesting enough by themselves, but sadly let down by generic direction and editing. The documentary feels like a regurgitation of techniques from Spellbound and Mad Hot Ballroom, with both being more successful in filming an ensemble cast.
The film follows an international cast as they prepare themselves for the 40th Irish Dancing World Championship in Glasgow. Jig follows several narratives, notably: John Whitehurts, a talented little Billy Elliot whose main fault is that he’s easily distracted thus affecting his innate fast jig skills. He idolizes Joe Bitter, whose build up in the film is rooted from expectations of dancing a new routine tha’ts never been done before. Undoubtedly however, the film prefers to focus on the main competition between Simona, Clair and Suzanne, as they are put on center stage more often. No surprises here, as their rivalry has spanned for about 15 years, with Simona determined to go for the gold this time as it’s her last year in the category.
With documentaries like these, the real pleasure comes from candid dialogue escaping the subjects. Brogan McCay, for example, a chatty 10-year-old girl from Northern England, could have easily directed the film towards Kids Saying the Darndest Things territory. However, McCay has a real down to earth way of presenting herself, with real insight and an egalitarian outlook that comes out naturally, making her an endearing highlight. Jig respects its subjects, as it sidesteps parody, as most of its subjects here are prone to it. John Carey notably, the teacher for both Whitehurts and Bitter, who was once an Irish Jig protege himself, is easily reminiscent of Mr. G off Summer Heights High. The film could have milked his campy persona, but intelligently focuses on the talent.
That said, the main issue is that Jig is a relatively joyless documentary. It’s factually presented with no real humor, creating the impression that the film is a heartless enterprise. Surely, this will cater more for people who are familiar with World’s (an endearing abbreviation of the competition), but for people not in the loop, it’s an issue if it wants to translate further into the mainstream. Some subjects come off as cursory characters as well, stifled by the reality that they were not up to scratch in their dancing techniques. Ana Kondratyeva and the Ceilidh Team from Moscow are filmed extensively, only to be disappointed by some of the team’s inability to fly to Glasgow, hampering a true moment of glory. Of course, this is beyond the director’s control, but it affects the tone of the film and implies that Jig doesn’t have proper direction.
Jig desires to flesh out Irish dancers as an interesting set of people, driven and talented, even if they are all covered with the artificial expectation of exaggerated make-up and shiny suits. Unfortunately, the film really lacks direction, unable to settle on a message or an idea, allowing subjects to stand for themselves, leaving the film unfocused and sometimes meandering. Audiences who like Irish dancing will be instant fans of Jig but the film will find it hard to reach a wider audience.
Reynald Castaneda