Dori Berinstein’s documentary, which looks at a year in the lives of the 12 women and one chunky B-boy in the New Jersey Nets senior (as in over 60 years old) hip-hop dance team, would be just another disposable, albeit touching, distraction if its subtext didn’t hint that growing old in this ageist society is a bitch. Sixty may be the new 45, but to their condescending young instructors recruited from the well-toned ranks of the real Nets dancers, the seniors are a frustration: sometimes cute, sometimes annoying—like children. Any viewers also in need of an attitude adjustment need only witness these lockin’ and poppin’ sages struggle without complaint to conquer creaky joints, impaired rhythmic instincts, and complicated choreography. If that’s not enough to award proper respect to the team—which includes a pair of evergreen beauties; schoolteacher Betsy, who dances as her way bolder persona, Betty; and a tiny 83-year-old ray of grandmotherly sunshine—fascinating biographical snippets of the lives of all 13 members in their primes arrive midway to remind us that even the youngest and hippest among us grow old, if we’re lucky.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on July 28, 2009