Michael Flatley knows what you think of him. Hes heard it allcantering megalomaniac, spotlight-humping hamboneand hes here to tell you that hes selling out stages around the world without you. Yet I suspect even his fansand I could now identify at least a couple of you in a lineupwill be disappointed by Lord of the Dance 3D. After an introduction in which Flatley enumerates his successes, taunts the haters, and talks up his homecoming Dublin show, the film comprises a single concert as performed, which means it never morphs into the amazing Christopher Guest jam it first suggests. Strike two is the fact that, not counting one superb, David Lee Roth scissor-kick in slo-mo, director Marcus Viner does little to marry Flatleys métier to the form. Irish step dancingin which dancers stand in place and twizzle, stab, and stomp their feet into the floor in perfect, martial formationis particularly ill-suited to 3-D, and in most of the dozen or so set pieces, Flatley, wearing black, dances against a black background (and Fred Astaire wept). Even Flatley infidels will find themselves starved for a well-lit close-up of those whirling feet, or maybe just the tantalizing illusion of a swift, blackout kick to the head.
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