02x21 - Ladder Theory

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Dance Academy...

All I want
is a nice, simple crush. Just stop.

I'll like you if I want, and there's
nothing you can do about it. Fine.

Like me, then.
Fine, I will.

I'm not doing this dance.

Darling, you're just tired
and you are run-down,

no doubt from rehearsing
that ridiculous musical.

It's not ridiculous.

And it makes me happy.
I know what makes you happy.

I have sacrificed everything
for your happiness.

Finn, hi, it's me.

Um, you're gonna have to find
a replacement.

Just rehearsals
were interfering too much.

This is for the teachers
at the Academy. For overlooking me.

And that's for my dad. I'm in the
Nationals at the Prix de Fonteyn.

Book a ticket.

It's here,

after nine months of training
and agonising over our solos...

the National Finals
of the Prix de Fonteyn.

Judgement day.

Only two girls and two boys
out of the country

will make it through
to the Internationals.

And the worst part?

That all of our technique,
our artistry, our individuality...

the judges
take these hard-earned things

and transform them
into cold, unforgiving numbers.

Grace Whitney,
National Academy, Classical Round.

. .

. .

. .

. .

. .

. .

Thank you, Michael Slade,
Tasmanian School of Dance.

The Slade has spoken. b*at that.

Zach, who appointed the judges?
They hate us. It's rigged.

Everyone, just calm down.
Zach, we're not sevens.

Whoa, you might be, but we're not.
What?!

They're playing favourites.

Enough!

I will be making enquiries
with the Committee

as to whether
there is bias involved.

As the National school,
we enjoy certain privileges.

It can work against us.
However, that's not your concern.

You are going to suck it up

and focus
on the Contemporary Round tomorrow.

There he is.

Hi.

Your mum's at a conference. We
thought we could be your fan base.

You weren't at the theatre
just then, were you?

Sorry - I got stuck at the hospital.
But you're on again tomorrow,
right?

Saw your 'Stalkbook' update.

. . No-one gets...
Yeah, Ollie, this is my dad.

Wow, the famous Dr Lieberman.

So, it didn't go so well today?

I'm sure his girlfriend
made him feel better. Ari.

I checked
your relationship status, too.

So why don't we do lunch tomorrow
before you perform?

You could invite this girl along.

Yeah, that... that sounds
really, um... really good.

Um, look, I've got to get changed,
though, so...

Alright. I'll call you.

OK.
Ari.

Lunch with the family
and you changed your status.

This is getting serious.

Look, you can't come to theatre
'cause we might give off vibes.

My family's not like yours, OK?
My mum would cry.

Dad would just blame ballet.
Right.

And his opinion counts 'cause
he's always been so supportive.

Hello. Hey.

Thank you!

Finn has done the rewrites

but we are just, like,
devoid of all choreography skills.

So are you going to do
both roles now?

Yeah, yours and mine. It's
a Jekyll-and-Hyde acting challenge.

Finn, look who heard
the distress signal.

Ah, I told you -
we don't need any help.

That is just a lie.

It's OK. He thinks I let you down.

I got the voicemail.

I... I couldn't have done it anyway,
now that it's opening tomorrow night.

It's a direct clash with
the Nationals... I know, darlin'.

He gets it, and so do I -
super prestigious ballet competition

trumps unpaid fringe musical
every time.

That Slade kid needs taking down.
The headband's got you rattled.

It's you I'm worried about. Nothing
is gonna psyche me out tomorrow.

That's why I'm b*ating you.
OK. So if I reminded you

I b*at you in the preliminaries,
that wouldn't be unsettling?

I was luring you
into a false sense of security.

And that girl you like...
I'm with now?

Kat?
That is so six months ago.

And plus, it's your ex
who thinks I'm hot.

She loses her way sometimes.

Hey, Tara.

Want to go to the beach?

Now?

Where have you been?

Just training.
Good.

I wouldn't worry about those judges.

They'll be eating their scorecards
when you win the International.

Have you thought about where
you want your scholarship to be?

No.
I, um, didn't want to jinx myself.

I've always thought -
picture New York.

We'll get an apartment
near Lincoln Center.

You'll be in the Company
by the time you're .

And soloist by ?
Principal by the time you're .

Oh. It's all gonna happen
for you, sweetheart.

Excuse me.
Can I borrow you for a second?

Yes. Um, sorry, Mum.

OK, all you gotta do is...
sh**t me adoring looks

and if I say something witty,
be like,

'Oh, Sammy,
you're such a character!'

A sane person would just say, 'No,
Dad, I don't have a girlfriend.'

Yes, but he's expecting one.

And if I can smooth
just this one situation... you know?

As my entire life has become about
pleasing other people, why not?

It's so sweet of you
to do this.

It really puts stuff
in perspective.

Do you reckon you could
eat this raw? Like sushi-style?

Perspective, like,
remember how a couple of weeks ago

I said I wasn't ready
to go out with anyone?

Vaguely.

So... if it makes a difference,
I think I'm past that.

Um, OK, look.

The problem is,
there's, like, a friend ladder

and a girlfriend ladder.

And you can move up and down
these ladders,

but you just can't cross
from one ladder to another.

And I'm on the friend ladder.

Close to the top, but, yeah.

Got it.

This was where we left our stuff,
right?

Have we been robbed?

Who steals from people in the middle
of an important competition?

Slade.

I would not put it past him.

Somebody,
elite athletes in distress!

We can walk.
Trust me, I've done it before.

What?

Nothing.

Let's go.

Heading into the final day
of the Nationals,

to avoid any disputes about
influence, fictional or otherwise,

the judging panel
will keep their scores private.

Results will be announced
at the end of competition today.

Benjamin Tickle,
National Academy.

Don't hurt yourself.

T, that must have been
some seaside adventure.

We're on the friends ladder.

Yeah, no, he didn't just look
at you like a friend.

OK, so just stick
to neutral topics...

like the weather, Sydney traffic.

Look, let's just abort.
You obviously want to be backstage.

Too late.

Sammy.
Hey, Dad.

Ari, this is Abigail, my girlfriend.
It's my girlfriend, Abigail.

This is Dad. This is Ari,
who you've met. Mr Lieberman.

Abigail.
Hi. It's a lovely day. Hi.

Was traffic OK?
Yeah, it was fine, thanks.

Shall we eat?
Yeah. Yep.

Incredible, isn't he?

Maybe ask him
why he's suddenly all over you.

Because he's enchanted
by her winsome charms.

He's trying to psyche me out.

Really?

I'm so hideous that no-one would ever
like me unless there's an agenda?

And why, pray tell,
would it psyche you out, boyfriend?

That's the thing, it wouldn't.

Just don't get hurt, OK?

Ignore him. The competition
is warping his brain.

Don't be nervous on my account.
I don't expect anything today.

Just seeing how my money's spent.

Just making sure
you're not wasting it.

So, how, um, how bad do you think
I'm going to be today, exactly?

Honey, tone warning.

Sammy, I'm just trying
to make conversation.

Yeah.

How would you know
what to say to me

when we're basically strangers?

Hmm?

Sorry.
He's just a little temperamental.

Excuse me.

What are you doing?

Did you hear that?

No matter how I do,
I'm a disappointment, regardless.

I can't... I can't do it, OK?
I'm out.

OK? I can't get up there
and try and prove him right.

You pushed me in the fountain!

You were irritating me.

Can you stop complaining
about your dad's low expectations?

Do you know what
I would give for low expectations?

And who cares if he doesn't think
you're good?

You're not dancing
in that competition because of him.

Right, OK,
so why am I dancing, then, huh?

'Cause that's where you want to be,
more than anywhere else.

You want to be on that stage,
doing what makes you happy.

I was gonna sneak out the back
so we didn't give off vibes.

I could sort of use you side stage
instead.

I'm sorry.

No. I'm just happy I'm
so well-adjusted compared to you.

Hmmph.

So I'm thinking,

if anyone was to have the skillage
to cross ladders, it'd be you.

How would that work?

Well, um, the ladders,
they would have to be pretty close.

And then if you just leaned over...

Or I could...

Next to the stage, Christian
Reed, the National Academy.

Tell me you didn't just do that
to mess with Christian.

What? No.

I mean, asking you to
the beach was... it was a tactic.

But it didn't end like that...
Stop talking.

This crush, or whatever it was,
is officially over.

What is going on with him?

Don't tell me there's a boy lurking
when we're off to New York.

'Break an eyelash. Finn and Mistii.'

Who's that?

Oh, those musical theatre people?
How sweet.

Right.

Mum?
Mm?

I have to go.
Sit down, please.

We need to get your make-up done.
Come on.

Right.

Here we go.
No, Mum.

I know how much you want this.

And you could be right -
I might win the Prix.

But I might not. The thing is,
I don't care either way.

Sweetheart, it's just
the nerves talking. Just relax.

No, Mum, listen!

I'm not dancing today.

I can't breathe.

- Don't.
- Oh, I can't breathe.

Mum, I can't be responsible
for making you breathe.

That's not my job.

Sweetheart...

Once again, the Slade is superior.

Not with that headband.

Samuel Lieberman,
National Academy.

Hey, what are you doing? What are
you doing? What are you do...?!

How about... how about
we make this an immersive experience

and you guys just...
imagine the music?

Hey! Get... off me!

It's usually less bumpy.

I've never seen anything like it.

We didn't get to finish our lunch.

Do you think
you could come home soon?

You too, Ollie.
You're welcome anytime.

There's this argument

that there shouldn't be competitions
in ballet

because it's an art, not a sport.

The following four dancers
will be representing Australia

in the International Round
of the Prix de Fonteyn.

But competition brings out the best
in some people.

For others, it crystallises
what's important to them.

You're all so touchy-feely.

The part I don't like
is ranking everyone best to worst.

In the Girls' Section,
the Silver Medal is awarded to...

Grace Whitney, National Academy.

But I might just be saying that
right now

to prepare myself for disappointment.

And the Gold Medal goes to...

Tara Webster,
also from National Academy.

In the Boys' Section,
the Silver Medal...

goes to Michael Slade,
Tasmanian School of Dance.

Let me out!

Which, uh, he'll collect later.

And the Gold Medal is awarded...

to Samuel Lieberman,
National Academy.

Australia,
these are your representatives.