Not that dirty . . .

The revolution will be choreographed.

Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, a retro-remake of the 1987 . . . uh, let's say "classic," just for the sake of argument . . . resets the action in an earlier decade and a lot farther south. It's 1958, and 17-year-old Katey and her family have just moved to Havana, where they live at the upscale Oceana Hotel with the other wealthy and privileged gringos. A couple of chance encounters lead her into a budding friendship with Javier, a waiter at the hotel. This doesn't work out so well for Javier, though. He gets fired for fraternizing with a guest and Katey decides the best way to help him is to dance! dance! dance! as his partner in the big contest.

A little dirty . . .

She has to learn to let go and move to the Latin rhythms. He has to learn to channel his instinctive gyrations into a routine. If only Patrick Swayze were on hand to help them. But wait, he is! Johnny Castle, his Dirty Dancing character - who will somehow get significantly younger as the 1960s begin, but whatever - is the dance instructor at the hotel, and dispenses valuable advice to Katey about, I don't know, I think it was dancing through her fear or something.

For drama, we get Katey's parents, who are initially scandalized by their WASP-y daughter's romance with the earnest young Cuban. This is quickly resolved once they remember what nice, liberal people - and dancers! -- they really are. Then there's the Cuban Revolution, personified by Javier's angry older brother. Between dance numbers we get a few shallow political discussions, but mostly the revolution exists as a plot device to separate the lovers for all of, oh, three or four minutes, a ploy that seems even more transparent because I never really bought the love story to begin with.

Now you're talking!

So, in terms of plot, Havana Nights doesn't have a lot going for it, even in comparison with the original, which is saying something. But on the plus side, there is dancing! and plenty of it and these scenes have a steamy intensity that works in a music video kind of way, even if I wish director Guy Ferland hadn't been quite so edit-happy. (What's wrong with just watching people dance from a single angle for at least a few seconds at a time? What's that? The actors really don't dance all that well? Never mind.) And it has the charismatic Diego Luna playing Javier, with ease and genuineness and a definite screen presence that even transcends the movie's trite dialogue.

Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights is no better and no worse than the Swayze/Jennifer Grey version, and only time will tell if it will become a cable TV staple like its predecessor. In the meantime, the title probably tells you more than I can about whether or not you want to see it.

Gorilla Pants rating: 1.5 out of 4 bananas