If one were to scan the titles of movies opening this Friday,
that person would find a group of adjectives appealing to a
somewhat degenerate nature: scary, wild (admittedly used as a noun
in the movie’s name), hard, notorious, kinky.
In typical Hollywood fashion, that outward sex appeal
doesn’t represent anything more than the slightest smile from
the coyest mistress. The movies that correspond to the mildly
pornographic vocabulary are as tame as Eddie Adams before he
becomes Dirk Diggler: “Scary Movie 4″ is an unnecessary
sequel to a dying franchise, “The Wild” is an animated
animal movie, “Hard Candy” is the newest independent
attempt at suspense, “The Notorious Betty Page” is a
biopic, and “Kinky Boots” is, well, British. How sexy
could it be?
But of all the movies coming out this week, I’m most
excited about “Kinky Boots.” Released to rave reviews
in Britain in 2005, the film follows the owner of a small shoe
factory who decides that the only way to stay in business is to
make shoes with sex appeal, enlisting the help of a London drag
queen along the way. The film’s softhearted treatment of
taboo subject matter puts it firmly in line with an increasingly
impressive mini-genre: the small, working-class British comedy.
In the last decade, these comedies have found unlikely patrons
in American audiences, who annually get tired of their national
cinematic product and want to embrace something else for a while.
These films typically revolve around poor protagonists who, in an
effort merely to survive in rural England, scheme to make money in
some bizarre way. The comedy stems from these downtrodden tramps
participating in activities they don’t understand, but the
films always have happy endings.
Because these films all tend to take place in rural England,
they are also more or less impossible to understand until you get
used to the indecipherable accents. Anyone who has visited
Birmingham, which is known to have the ugliest of ugly British
dialects, can instantly recall the frustration to which I
refer.
To better understand the genre, consider its origins. The 1997
film “The Full Monty” started the trend, immediately
followed by 1998’s “Waking Ned Devine.”
In “The Full Monty,” six down-and-out industrial
steelworkers decide to make money by stripping. In “Waking
Ned Devine,” one down-and-out Irish community pretends that
the title character is alive so the village can keep his lottery
winnings. Devine himself dies as the movie begins, from the shock
of having a winning ticket.
It’s no surprise that the only character to have good luck
at the beginning of such films dies moments later. These movies
represent cultural Cinderella stories, transforming the lowest of
the low to the highest of highs in a way that directly contrasts
the British notion of nobility and aristocracy. “Billy
Elliot” (2000) and “Bend It Like Beckham” (2002)
grew out of a similar mold.
Though films have used Britain as a setting for much longer than
the past decade, many such productions that play well in the U.S.
use England either for its history or its major city. Period pieces
play well in the British countryside (just think of every version
of “Pride and Prejudice” you’ve ever seen), and
contemporary urban tales in need of a geographic overhaul benefit
from London’s cinematic appeal (“Bridget Jones’s
Diary,” “Notting Hill,” “Love
Actually”).
But such films are usually produced by American film companies,
implying a limited Hollywood exoticism that only crosses the
Atlantic when a movie won’t work in Los Angeles, or,
alternatively, stars Hugh Grant. None of these films can be called
a small, working-class British comedy because they are not small,
working-class nor British. In many cases they’re not even
comedies in the sense that a comedy is supposed to be funny.
To compare “Kinky Boots” to “Notting
Hill” is the intellectual equivalent of comparing
“Paris, Texas” to “Manhattan” simply
because they both take place in the United States. Instead
appreciate “Kinky Boots” for what it is: a hearty
throwback to “The Full Monty” and the small,
working-class British comedy.