The Business of Fancydancing

I’ve been reading my classmates’ blogs on The Business of Fancydancing in place of writing my own.

I know, I know, it’s a lazy way to get inspiration to write about the film. I realize my ideas will be tinged with the thoughts of my classmates, perhaps to an uncomfortable degree. Perhaps I’m even obfuscating my thinking process.

But I can’t help it. The film (or, more accurately, the 80% of the film I saw) resounded on such a giant level with me, I’m still not sure what to say about it. It was terribly sad, that’s for sure. There were interludes of humor, but they were nearly pitch-black, shocking as much as they amused. Mouse films himself huffing gas as an inspirational video of sorts, Aristotle brutally beats up a white attempted hitchhiker, and I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry.

This emotional confusion seems to be a common response across the blogs, and even the mainstream media. I looked up the film on Rotten Tomatoes, and found critics were almost completely mixed on the movie. (http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/business_of_fancydancing/) I suspect this was because, at least to an extent, the movie is so unusual and—dare I say—even confusing, almost.

Despite this emotional confusion, I still don’t regret seeing The Business of Fancydancing. The parts I did see resonated deeply with me, even standing as an outsider to both the American Indian and the LGBT cultures depicted in the film. I’m still going to have to think long and hard about what it meant to me, however.