While bearing a sequel title that verges on parody, Step Up 2: The Streets distinguishes itself from its predecessor, 2006’s Step Up, in one key aspect: significantly elevated dance sequences. Although the original Step Up had its moments, the choreography in Step Up 2 is undeniably superior. Dave Scott (Stomp the Yard), Hi-Hat (How She Move), and Jamal Sims (Step Up) collectively deliver a dance spectacle that outshines Anne Fletcher’s choreography in the first film. This upgrade in dance quality alone positions the sequel as a step forward, even if it stumbles in other areas. Conversely, Step Up 2 falters when compared to the original in terms of narrative depth. Where Step Up presented a formulaic yet functional storyline, the sequel drowns in forced melodrama and clunky dialogue, making the actors sound like exposition machines from low-budget science fiction flicks of the past.
However, adhering to the principle that a genre film’s primary strength should lie in its core elements, a dance movie is judged more by its dance prowess than its narrative sophistication. By this measure, Step Up 2 surpasses its forerunner. This isn’t to say it’s a cinematic masterpiece, but the film undeniably delivers on its promise of compelling dance, thus justifying its existence. The film smartly places its most impressive dance numbers at the beginning and end, ensuring a strong initial impact and a memorable final impression. This approach, seemingly obvious, is often overlooked in similar films, whether they are as predictable as Step Up or as critically acclaimed as How She Move. The dance sequences in Step Up 2 are notably more challenging and dynamic than in the first film. Even Channing Tatum, in a cameo, demonstrates his impressive dance abilities. The sequel embraces a grittier, more intense style, focusing more on the dancers’ skill than mere visual appeal, and thankfully, it often pushes the weak plot to the background. In many ways, it’s the perfect movie to fast-forward through to get to the dance highlights.
In reality, the melodrama isn’t as overwhelming as initially suggested (and let’s admit, melodrama has its secret appeal). The real issue is the plot’s lack of focus. Beyond the central storyline, many plot threads are left dangling. Each scene feels designed solely to transition to the next, resulting in potentially interesting character conflicts being discarded like old news. The main story revolves around Andie (Briana Evigan), an orphaned white teenager in Baltimore living with her mother’s black friend. She’s involved with the underground street dance group 410 and is on the verge of being sent to Texas. Her last chance is to prove herself at the Maryland School of the Arts (MSA). There, she encounters Chase Collins (Robert Hoffman), a talented but rebellious student, who is captivated by her street dance style. Just like in the first movie, they blend classical and street dance styles, aiming to impress everyone.
This well-worn narrative is not developed in any meaningful way. It’s surrounded by filler content that, instead of adding depth, becomes distracting. The film shockingly leaves numerous storylines unresolved, especially for a teen movie. Many of these involve the supporting characters, most of whom are forgettable, except for Moose, a nerdy dancer played by Adam Sevani. Moose’s character arc, ranging from grating to endearing, is one of the few memorable aspects outside of the dance.
What is truly disappointing, and perhaps overly critical to point out, is that unlike Step Up, Step Up 2 subtly hints at class and race tensions. The central conflict involves the diverse MSA dancers wanting to compete in “The Streets,” an underground competition in a predominantly African-American neighborhood. However, they are seen as outsiders and pretenders. The film consistently avoids exploring the real implications of race and class. This issue was present in the first film, but it’s amplified here, reflecting a sanitized approach typical of Disney, the studio behind the films. While aiming for inoffensive dance movies for a young audience is understandable, the film inadvertently draws attention to these issues through dialogue and character interactions, only to shy away from any meaningful engagement. This might have been a minor issue if not for the casting of Sonja Sohn, known for her role as Detective Greggs in HBO’s The Wire, as Andie’s guardian. This connection to a Baltimore-based series deeply rooted in race and class issues, though unlikely to be noticed by the target audience, highlights the dance movie’s superficial treatment of these themes.
Perhaps this is placing undue weight on a light dance film. Let’s refocus on more appropriate criticisms: the leads are likeable and talented dancers, but their acting is weak. The plot is, at best, messy. Max Malkin’s cinematography aims for grit but lacks originality. The musical numbers are well-directed and edited, but the rest of the filmmaking feels rudimentary. However, it’s important to remember the target demographic. Having disliked the first film and not being a teenager, as a middle-class viewer, the question arises: why analyze this so deeply in the first place?
