Mad Hot Ballroom

Co-produced by Nickelodeon with an eye on the small-fry TV audience, Mad Hot Ballroom is a superficial but thoroughly charming documentary about New York City's 5th-grade public school dance programme. Begun in 1994 as a nonprofit venture by the American Ballroom Theatre, the 10-week programme culminates in a delirious dance-off at the World Financial Center. By the time the winning team staggers home with a trophy large enough to house several small pets, the participants have learned to merengue, rumba, swing, tango and foxtrot. Even more important, boys and girls on the brink of puberty have mastered the art of gazing into each other's eyes without giggling. Now, that's tough.

Adopting a loose and serendipitous structure that works perfectly with their subject matter, first time filmmakers Marilyn Agrelo and Amy Sewell follow teams from three areas: affluent TriBeCa, middle-income Bensonhurst and Washington Heights, home to primarily poor Dominican families. "Most of these children have issues," says their principal, watching indulgently as a fledgling heartbreaker named Wilson practices his "tango face." In delightfully candid interviews, the children reveal an awareness beyond their years, as one girl wonders why her mother stays with a drunken husband and another understands the need to avoid the men who loiter around the projects. The boys, for their part, bemoan the tendency of women to "always think they're the best at everything." Get used to it, pal.

At an age where the opposite sex is becoming just that, these kids are doing more than simply discovering their inner Fred and Ginger. They're learning respect, boundaries and the novel notion that men who dance well (and know how to tuck in their shirts) are not necessarily gay.

Mad Hot Ballroom doesn't allow itself to become bogged down in the learning and growing; it's much too busy with the dancing. "I like to move my hips a lot," says a diminutive Dominican beauty, demonstrating a genetic sense of rhythm Madonna would kill for. And if the film identifies a little too much with the underdogs, the flaw is a forgivable one. It's much easier to root for poor kids who need to learn that birth doesn't have to mean destiny.

Following on the heels of the hugely popular Spellbound, Mad Hot Ballroom panders to our boundless appetite for photogenic tykes becoming socialised the American way - through competition. And to their credit, Agrelo and Sewell don't try to duck the flip side of that coin, watching respectfully as tenderhearted teachers console devastated losers.

"I still don't understand what happened," sighs a disconsolate Bronze Medal (read: booby prize) winner, his Shirley Temple curls drooping. The teachers at PS 150 admit to harboring doubts about this aspect of the competition, but ultimately went ahead because "the kids needed something after 9/11." And if you still haven't reached for a Kleenex by this point, you've entered the wrong movie theater. Star Wars is next door.

Aside from a brief montage of some of the dancers' families, Mad Hot Ballroom is reluctant to probe the home lives of its students. Though frustrating, this lack of depth never detracts from the chaotic joy of its multicultural message. "Dancing is mad hot!" enthuses a tiny Latina princess with diva attitude. Girl, you got that right.