Angelinne Moreno (Miyagi)
“Dance is neither about technique or stamina. Love is what makes it whole.” This is probably the most memorable line from the recent Netflix release 10 Dance, starring Keita Machida and Ryoma Takeuchi. Adapted from the manga of the same name and directed by Keishi Ohtomo, the story of two very different dancers unfolds through tension-filled scenes that build up to the moment their passion for both dance and each other is revealed on the dance floor.
Keita Machida plays the outwardly perfect gentleman Shinya Sugiki, a Japanese world-class ballroom dance champion. Meanwhile, Ryoma Takeuchi plays the eccentric half-Japanese, half-Cuban Japan Latin dance champion, Shinya Suzuki. Their names only differ by a single Japanese character and appropriately symbolize the dedication they both bring to their careers in vastly different ways. Where Sugiki focuses on technique, striving for perfection, Suzuki approaches dance with a fiery attitude that feels quite intimate.
The characters knew of each other through the dance world, but only came to admire each other with more familiarity after Sugiki challenged Suzuki to train together and compete in the infamous 10 Dance competition. The 10 Dance competition is the only stage where both ballroom and Latin dancers can compete. Suzuki, not one above accepting challenges in anger, takes on Sugiki’s offer to train together and attempt to best the other at the time of the competition.
Their relationship starts off on unsteady feet. They clash during practice sessions, with Sugiki unable to understand how to embrace the less calculated and sexier nature of Latin dance, while Suzuki overlooks the consideration for one’s partner inherent in ballroom dancing. Eventually, through close observation and proximity as well as spontaneous exposure to each other’s upbringing, they come to not only understand one another on a deeper level but also evolve their rivalry into something not quite strictly professional.
Upon stumbling into Sugiki dancing by himself on Christmas night, Suzuki approaches him, “You going to die if you don’t dance?” To which Sugiki simply responds, “Will you”? They go on to spend the night drinking together, and Sugiki confesses he is not the gentleman he pretends to be while dancing. Up until this point, both characters had been dancing around their unspoken attraction. After intending to part ways that night, the film’s climax unfolds in an empty train car, where Sugiki runs to catch up to Suzuki and embraces him in a passionate kiss. This is the point in the film where both dancers seem to truly come to understand each other beyond their first impressions and assumptions. The scene also captures the moment they come to accept that their feelings for each other are much more complicated than their shared passion for dance and their initial distaste for each other.
Critics have described the movie as underwhelming and rushed, while also criticizing the dancing of both actors. However, the rigorous training they underwent and their dedication to the film have been highlighted in numerous interviews. To the average viewer, the efforts of both actors to perform multiple dance styles with both male and female partners are highly evident and admirable. Beyond the dancing, the movie also successfully incorporates other meaningful themes that deserve appreciation. One being the dualism between Japanese and Cuban culture, brought to life through Sugiki and Suzuki—one embodying a perfectionist nature, the other a more sentimental approach to life. Suzuki is portrayed as being deeply connected to his Latin heritage and is depicted as having close ties with the Hispanic community in Japan. The real Cuban restaurant, Havana 1950, which can be found in Tokyo, is the setting of one scene wherein Suzuki appears to be a regular who speaks Spanish with the staff. Suzuki also takes Sugiki dancing to a Latin bar in another scene.
Another interesting theme is that of the queer experience set in Japan, which is never explicitly discussed between the characters. It is quite accurate to the characteristics of both commonly conservative Japanese and Hispanic cultures for this to have been the case. Committing to Suzuki is definitely something Sugiki struggles with. It can be said to go against his perfectionist personality to engage in such a relationship, as it is still considered taboo in Japan. Suzuki, who seems to be more prepared to cross that metaphorical bridge, is devastated when, amid a scuffle, Sugiki tells him, “You and I can never become one.” This may or may not be an allusion to the fact that same-sex marriage is still not recognized in Japan. Despite the fact that Japan is well known for its queer entertainment, such as BL (Boys Love) and GL (Girls Love), the reality remains that individuals who identify as LGBTQ+ have fewer legal protections than in most other developed countries. And yet, it is still possible to see the iconic 10 Dance movie poster at Shibuya Crossing, one of Japan’s most famous sights, in a major entertainment and commercial district crossed by an estimated 2.5 million people every day.
To echo Machida’s thoughts on the movie, for one to truly appreciate everything it has to offer, it is definitely worth watching more than once. He describes the film as one “that is packed full of everyone’s passion and love.” Moreover, the film offers a wonderful appreciation for Cuban culture and provides a unique story highlighting queer experiences in Japan. During a time when both foreign and queer topics in Japan are still striving to be regarded in a more positive light, the success and popularity of the movie 10 Dance brings about a sense of hope that the future will see a more understanding and outwardly diverse Japan.
Author Bio:
Angelinne Moreno is a first-year, Cuban-American, JET ALT from Miami, Florida. She is based in Miyagi, where she enjoys traveling and taking pictures.