Imdb synopsis: Spending the summer in a holiday camp with her family, Frances "Baby" Houseman falls in love with the camp's dance instructor Johnny Castle.
Such a guilty pleasure...I love this movie. I love the story, I love the dancing, I love the pure 80's-ness of it all. Swayze is such a charmer, Grey a perfect embodiment of a 16 year old swept off her feet. The more I watch it, the more things I pick up. The Ayn Rand reference? The Freedom Ride? This has always been one of my "sick" movies- you feel miserable (like death warmed over) and all you want to do is snuggle on the couch with five different blankets because you're too lazy to put socks on your perpetually cold feet (but NOT too lazy to find five blankets). You compromise with yourself, allowing that watching a movie totally counts as doing something productive...that's a not-so-strict rule that should only apply to movies you haven't seen yet (you know, to knock it off your Netflix instant queue). However it happens, once the first song starts up ("The night we met I...knew I need you soooo...") I'm instantly in a happier mood as I watch the black and white slow motion grind. Side note: grinding happened in the 60's too, so why is it SO awful now and without rhythm? The dancers in the movie were just as close but it was still dancing...What gives, society?