01x05 - Real Men Don't Dance

[bunniefuu]

Previously on
Dance Academy...

Weak ankles.

Behind technically.

At least you can catch up.

I need to be
genetically reprogrammed.

What do you mean, I have
to do pointe? Boys don't do pointe!

They do when their
ankles are weak.

But I'll be a laughing stock.

Oop!

"Proven commitment to training
for an elite career in dance

"would be compelling evidence

"that Christian would benefit
from a non-custodial sentence."

This could be
your ticket to freedom.

I've never met anybody so rude!

Doesn't your mother
teach you manners?

She's dead.

And leaving me
at the beach. Hilarious, right?

But you weren't even with us.

Because of you,
the whole school is laughing at me.

What are you talking about here?
I don't even know you.

Shoulders down, Tara.

In pirouettes, you have to keep
your eyes on the one fixed spot.

All your focus must be on your spot.

Everything else has to be
kept out of your mind.

No distractions, just the spot.

What did I say about focus?

100% focus demands
100% commitment,

and that means some things
have to be sacrificed.

Someone kept moving my spot.

Uh-huh.

I swear.

When you see Tara,
can you give her this?

I think she might have
accidentally dropped it in the bin.

It's sort of blurry.

It's sort of Ethan.

Oh.

Did you throw this in the bin?

Yep.

Not because you found
a better sh*t of him?

No.

Because he's distracting
and he's frustrating

and generally bad for me.

From now on,
I'm sticking with my friends.

Gold elephant stamp for you, Tiara.

I'm a dead man.

Dude, it's only English.

And you got a B+, not an F.

Dead, dead, dead.

There is no pulse, OK?

I'm six feet underground.

For a corpse, you're doing a pretty
good job of topping every class.

Are you serious, Kat?
Yes.

Take a look around.

This is a dance school.

In my Dad's opinion,
it's easy to top.

And I promised him
straight A's and...

Straight A's and synagogue
every Saturday.

I would love an excuse like that
to get out of class.

Sorry, excuse? No.

See, Kat, that's where you're wrong.

It's not an excuse, OK?
It's this web of lies.

One week I'm telling Dad, "I'm too
sick to go to temple." Next week...

You're telling the school
you're too sick to dance,

so you can go to synagogue.

You realise you can't keep that up.
You risk serious implosion.

OK.

OK, so I've got it.

OK, I have to go to Shabbat
tonight and temple tomorrow,

because I promised Dad
I'll do a reading.

That's it. OK, I'll be firm.

- Young Lieberman.
- Yes.

How's your health?
No tickle in the throat?

You haven't eaten a bad sausage?
No, I'm fine, sir.

Then we'll have the pleasure of your
feet in my Saturday class tomorrow.

Yeah, with... See, with the class...

You do know the meaning
of the word 'compulsory',

as in 'compulsory Saturday class'?

Yes. I'm kind of
living it at the moment.

Good.

Come on, where is it?

Hey, man.

Oh, come in.

My stuff's in the way.

Oh, where is it?

There are
crumbs in my bed.

What?

Crumbs.

Oh, yeah, that'd be
the poppy seed cake. Sorry, man.

Wait, you ate cake on my bed?

Yeah, well, you know,
my bed had things on it.

Mum only baked it yesterday
and it's a really nice batch.

Go on, have some.

OK.

Hey, look, I get it. I understand.

I'll clean all this up
the second I get back from Shabbat.

Yes!

OK...

Ooh, hey, do you want to come?

Um, no. I've got my own family stuff.

Oi, you!

Get out of it.
I said get out of there.

I heard you.
Want me to call the cops?

Ari! What are you doing?

- Ari!
- But I'm da-a-ancing!

Get the chicken.

Don't you think I'm
beautiful when I'm dancing?

You're not even funny.

Get your chicken.

Sammy, sit, please.

Would you
like some more, Mum?

Dancing school
wasn't supposed to interfere

with your studies
or proper religious observance.

I attend synagogue.

On and off, when the mood takes you.

You're not a B+!

I know.
You're a top-percentile!

Sam, you could have
any career you want.

Yeah, as long as it's
a cardiologist, right?

Oh, nonsense. There are plenty of
other specialties.

I know we don't like to admit
it publicly,

but your grandfather
was merely a dermatologist.

Sammy wants to be
a ballerini-ologist.

What?
That's enough, Ari.

I worry that you're
sacrificing your education,

taking liberties with your faith.

You tell us you're one of the best
dancers at the Academy.

He is! You've seen him dance.

But what will that
give you long-term?

Think.

But you made a promise.
You have to attend synagogue.

It'll break your father's heart...

Don't worry, Mum. I'll be there.
I promise.

Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!
I'm the champion, my friend.

That was poetry in motion.
You should bow down before me.

I am the reigning pool shark.

Best of three.

Best of five.
No, I'm done!

Kitty Kat. Quick game?

Busy. But you can help me appliqué.

Uh, no.

Tara, you wanna play?

Sorry, I'm busy too.

Ah, one game won't hurt.

100% focus demands
100% sacrifice.

I'm helping Kat.

Hey.

Where is my stuff?

I chucked it.

You what?

It's in the garbage.

You can't do that!

If I ever have to pick up after
you again, I'll get violent.

Is that a promise?

Hit me.

Come on, you can get me out of class.

What?
Come on, free sh*t. Go the nose.

Lots of blood. It's gonna look great.

Actually, that'll heal by the morning
so you'd better go the mouth.

Just give me a nice big, fat lip.

OK, and... go.

Go!

Yes! Crumbs!

Christian, you hate crumbs.
Look - crumbs.

Reckless. Ha-ha! There we go...

What am I supposed to do?

Three generations of Liebermans
made it through med school

without even feeling
the urge to pirouette.

So why do I get the curse?

I'm going to ask you something.

Yeah?

Dancer or doctor?

Dancer.

Yeah.

Mr Lieberman!

It's just so nice to see
your Saturday face.

Hey, I need you warm.

I'm ready.

No, you're not.
You've been bludging all morning.

What's wrong?

Synagogue starts at 11:00.

I feel sick.
The guilt is eating me up.

OK, turns a la seconde.

Ready? And...

Pivot en dehors.

Focus on lifting
from your inside thighs.

Christian, you're turning in.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. You right?

Is there a problem?

Yeah, you.

Such a waste of time.

Did you say something?

This class is a waste of time.

Does anybody else
think this is a waste of time?

What are we gonna do - waste
your time or everybody else's?

OK, let's keep going.

I want to see
the whole movement now.

Alright, ready?

Sammy, focus more on
your supporting leg...

Promise me you'll go.
It'll break your father's heart...

Don't worry. I'll be there...

Sammy?

No, I don't feel so good.

You'll have a rest
in a minute.

Dancing school
wasn't supposed to interfere

with your studies
or proper religious observance.

- We had an agreement, Sammy.
- You made a promise.

No lies.

Oh!

My fault for pushing you.

You'd better go wash your face.

I'll go check on him.
Thanks, Tara.

Can someone find a mop?

Sammy, are you OK? You look terrible.

My stomach is in knots.

I'd be sick again
if there was anything left.

Sit down.

No, I can't, Tara, OK?

I've got, what, 20 minutes to make
the synagogue or I'm history.

You're not still going?!

I need you to cover for me.

This is crazy, Sammy.

Please, please. Tara.

Go.

Yes! Thank you. Thank you.

How is he?

Fine. I mean, he's not fine.
Well, he's sick, obviously...

Maybe we should call a doctor.

Well, he's not doctor-sick yet, so...

He's pretty sick
but he's not that...

You know, Tara, you have a total
inability to lie. Where is he?

I did it!

I was five minutes late
but I made it for the reading.

Great. That's... that's great.

Yeah, Dad was happy.

Good.

Patrick not so much.

He saw straight through me.
I had to tell him everything.

Huh.

I'm really sorry, Sammy.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah.

So are you h*m* or what?

See? Must have touched a raw nerve.

Dude, seriously,
you need to chill out.

Patrick's one of the few
alright people working here.

He got in my face.
I don't like people in my face.

He was correcting you.

I don't like
people touching me either.

Must make you a fun date.

You'll never get to find out.

Can I have that in writing?

This too close?

What are you doing?

People pay their shrinks thousands
of dollars for aversion therapy.

I'm prepared to do it for free.

Now, in 10 words or less,

describe how me touching
your arm makes you feel.

It makes my skin crawl.

Hmm. And now?

Same.

What about that?

I've changed my diagnosis.

You're not h*m*,
you're peoplephobic.

Don't worry.
I don't think it's incurable.

Morning, everyone.

Mr Reed, you're back.

Sammy, Mr Kennedy wants to
see you in his office.

Oh, OK.

Now.

Right.

OK, let's get started.

Come in.

Close the door
after you, Sammy.

Mr Reed, you look bored.

Sorry,
did you say something?

I asked if anyone would
like to demonstrate.

Stop, guys.

When you're ready.

Not a bad turn,
for a first-year.

But you let yourself down
with a wavering working leg.

You were fast,
but technically sloppy.

This time, slow it down.

I want nice controlled relevés
with perfect technique.

When you're ready.

There is a reason
we do the boring exercises.

Girls, change into
your pointe shoes.

You've always
said you wanted to dance.

You always suggested
you might have been the best at it.

Clearly, you're not. Right?
I'm trying my hardest...

We're thinking about your future.

It's over.

When Dad thought I was
the best, it was barely acceptable.

Now he knows I'm the worst.

But we're working on that.
We're going to be good.

He said I'm good at other things.

You don't care about any of those.

Doesn't matter.
Dad's pulling me out of the Academy.

Must be a big relief.

What?

I just figured it out.
You actually WANT to leave.

Yeah, how does that work?

Because then you won't ever
have to face up to the question

of whether you're good enough.

You can just say,
"Dad didn't let me."

It wasn't my choice.
But you said 'dancer', not 'doctor'.

Don't be like Christian.

That guy, he has talent
dripping from his toenails,

but he's too gutless to do
anything with it.

- I'm going to ask you something.
- Dancer or doctor?

You're a top-percentile.

I tried my best.

That's what I'm worried about.

You've seen him dance.

You could have
any career you want.

Dancer or doctor?

Six months down the track
I'm going to be even more behind,

then one day they'll come
and kick me out because I lack focus.

They're not going to
kick you out.

Three generations of
Liebermans made it through med school

without even feeling
the urge to pirouette.

So why do I get the curse?

Focus on your spot.

Focus on your spot.

Focus on your spot.

I'm going to ask you something.

'Dancer'.

Where are you, pointe shoes?

You beautiful little things,
where are ya?

What are you doing?

I'm looking for my pointe shoes.

You're staying?

Yeah.

I told you your dad would understand.

Yeah.

Oh. He didn't.

Not even close.

Yes!

Sometimes the things
you commit to

aren't going to please everyone.

Putting yourself on the line
comes at a cost.

OK, right from the top.

Breathe in, and...

Energy out, and...

But if you want to be the best,

sacrifices have to be made.

Maybe not all at once.