Lifetime has taken this franchise to the Sunshine State, so I decided to watch a couple of episodes to see how it would compare with the infamous crew at Abby Lee’s dance school. It was different, I have to say. The studio in the Miami version is named Starz and is run by two men – Victor and Angel. They are tough when they need to be, but they are also funny, particularly when it comes to how they deal with the Moms. While they don’t treat the Moms quite as badly as Abbie Lee does, they are not above exacting their own form of revenge on this bunch of overly competitive shrews. In fact, during one of the episode, the two instructors had the students do a little role playing, allowing them to impersonate their own mothers’ rantings and body language. It was a good way to cut the tension and exhaustion of the classes, while offering a little humor for everyone, including the viewer.
The Moms are, well, just like the ones who hover at the Abby Lee studio. They are just as driven and back-stabbing, only they’re wearing South Beach-like resort wear and some have different accents. Victor and Angel teach in an entirely different way than Abby Lee – they can actually dance, even to the point of demonstrating moves to their students that I thought only Gumby was capable of. These owners/instructors usually reserve their screaming for each other, something which is also entertaining to watch. When they are in the midst of one of their arguments, they forget that there are children and Moms watching, taking these fights to a whole new level.
The competitions that I have seen so far are not the award winning ones that seem to be the norm for Abby Lee and her dance troupe, but the kids are still a marvel to watch. If you haven’t seen it, I think it might be worth your while, if only for the sake of comparison to its’ Northern version.
I just read that Dick Clark has passed away. For those of us who have reached a certain milestone in ourlives, this is very sad news. Our childhoods and teen years would have been entirely different, and less joyful, had not brought us American Bandstand. I know that I spent countless hours watching the musical stars that he introduced to us, as well as dancing in front of my television, pretending that I was a part of The Supremes, or one of Gladys Knight’s backup singers. We owe him a debt of gratitude for what he provided and for a little lesson on what really kept him eternally young.