You Can Tutu

This movie targets young girls, whose taste and discernment won't rule them out as eager consumers of this junky, low-budget piece of pink-encrusted fluff. You Can Tutu feels so generic, so unoriginal, so much a rip-off of other, better, stories that one can imagine it being produced, written, or directed by some creatively-bankrupt soul looking to A) make some -- really any -- kind of movie and B) showcase the adorable young dancer they happened to glimpse next door. "You just watch, I'll make you a star, kid!" The movie is so banal and predictable that in the rare moments in which something lifelike happens, you have to assume it is by accident.

And it feels downright irresponsible to ignore the body image issues and eating disorders that are rampant among young girl dancers. Clichés form the story's building blocks. A new kid and her single dad move to a different London neighborhood, requiring that the girl start at a new school full of bullies and a new ballet school where the same girls mock her supposed originality, a trait that is somehow certified by the fact that she wears multicolored leotards. The school's regimental headmistress is a villain straight out of central casting. All but one of the ballet moms of Tutu's horrid classmates are boastful and superficial, living through their children and eyeing the single dad in their midst like a tasty morsel to be plucked up and swallowed whole. Imagine all of that performed by mostly inept actors saying lines badly. The film's central premise is shaky, as we are expected to admire Tutu because she doesn't like to stick to the choreography set by the headmistress. This is odd; while there's lots of room for creativity in different kinds of dance, ballet is a choreographer's art and dancers are expected to use their gifts to interpret their prescribed steps, not to improvise during performances. At least Lily O'Regan is a charming presence, and the dance performances at the end are lovely.