Finding Your Feet

Aida Vucic | 24/02/2018

Finding Your Feet is skewed largely to the baby boomer populace. Maybe that’s why the blatant racial slurs seem to be glossed with the same movie sheen of the film’s squeakily clean edit.

After having discovered that her husband of 35 years is cheating on her, Lady Sandra Abbott (Imelda Staunton) seeks solace from her sister Bif (Celia Imrie). Having lived a life of leisure for most of her adult life, Sandra is the definition of a snob and is inconsolable at the idea of leaving her comfortable lifestyle. In contrast, Bif, is a free-spirited, slightly eccentric, warm sort; only too eager to help her little sister get back on her feet. Bif encourages Sandra to join her dance class, and meet her gang of equally old and lonely souls. A former dance prodigy, Sandra is in her element, and the group of aged misfits, capturing the viral eye of the internet, are selected to compete in a dance tournament in Rome.  

 

Staunton plays it over the top, confusing the role with one of her Broadway types. She over exaggerates most of Sandra’s emotions to the point that they become comical. Rather than sympathising with her character, she bears the brunt of the jokes, and you find yourself laughing at her predicament. Imrie is delightful as Bif, and is the remedying character for the film that otherwise seems to be comprised of cast who would better feature in a soap opera. This likeness to a soap opera extends to the editing of the film, which opts to cut from scene to scene and features a permanent halo rings around its cast (adding to the realism of the tale). Even Timothy Spall, doing his best impression of a man who would rather be acting in anything but this, can’t save this Hindenburg of a film.

 

It’s all a bit cringe worthy, from Bif’s sexual conquest (that has deadly consequences) to the inappropriate restaurant scene, which may leave some audience members off foot. Its themes are relevant to the generation, but are thrown in haphazardly, trivialising the plight of this generation and continuing the misrepresentation of the elderly as some senile, racist fruit loops, who are on their last leg. It’s a shame that the plot threads were so short, as there were a number that, if only slightly extended, would have strengthened the film. Particularly the groups initial dance routine, which was to raise money for the elderly who die from the cold. The film briefly touches on the cost of heating and how every 9 minutes an elderly person dies from the cold in the UK, but loses interest quickly to focus on another of its innumerable plot threads.

Conclusion

Finding Your Feet regrettably falls victim to the same faults of films of the same genre, pandering to societies preconceived notion of this populace and doing so with such inappropriateness. It’s a disappointing watch.