We all knew how cool they were, swinging their legs like levitating
cartwheels atop a cardboard slab to a hip-hop rhythm that could arouse
envy among professional gymnasts. But the dance most of us know as
"breakdancing" was not just a fleeting cultural fad that faded with the
conclusion of the '80s. For director Benson Lee, the dance continues to
thrive under the title that best captures its form as a mode of
cultural and political expression: b-boying. "Breakdancing is a
derogatory term," Lee claims. "It was something that was contrived by
the media because they didn't want to call it b-boying. People wouldn't
understand." Lee's documentary film, "Planet B-Boy," aims to promote
understanding that b-boying has a culturally diverse and artistically
expressive history that is often overlooked. Set to release on March
21, the film explores the historical roots and development of b-boying,
up through its contemporary resurgence at the worldwide competitive
level, culminating with the annual "Battle of the Year" competition
that crowns the top international crew.
Lee is no stranger to the b-boy movement. He grew up in the
suburbs of Philadelphia in the early '80s when b-boying emerged out of
the nascent hip-hop scene of the Bronx. Much like hip-hop music,
b-boying, for Lee "captured an angst that needed to be let out."
B-boying provided a social outlet for youth to express themselves
against an urban backdrop that offered few avenues. The dance form is
loaded with aggression that reflects youth's under-representation.
While reactionary criticisms frequently target this aggressive
dimension, Lee suggests, "People need to understand that this is really
healthy for people who come from a particular environment. B-boying
allows angst to get out in a healthy way that's natural rather than
repressed." Above all, Lee is interested in illuminating the cultural
context out of which b-boys emerged.
After watching "Battle of the Year" on T.V. in the '90s, Lee
decided to investigate the international revival of b-boying. His
documentary depicts the complexities of a dance that incorporates
elements of acrobatics, gymnastics and karate. That's not to say,
however, that b-boying is a mere copy of other competitive art forms.
"When you bring something from the outside, you have to mold it to a
b-boy form," Lee explained, "That means you have to have b-boy
attitude, which is a warrior attitude when you dance." When b-boys
battle, they exchange moves developed over years of workout regimens
with an intensity that rivals mortar explosions. If only the UN could
orchestrate b-boy battles in place of conventional warfare.
While not yet established as a conflict resolution forum,
Lee stresses that b-boying can mend divisions between cultures and
generations, especially given the pervasive familiarity with
breakdancing. "Everyone knows what breakdancing is. My grandma knows
what breakdancing is. I want people to know what's behind it." That
means reviving b-boying as a tool to connect people by disseminating
its message and revealing its tradition. "As hip-hop is more pervasive
in our culture, it chips away at people. I'm trying to chip away at a
bigger chunk through this film."
"Planet B-Boy," both visually spectacular and culturally
informative, will surely galvanize the international b-boy movement. A
new generation of b-boying babies has already appeared, spinning on
their head and hands at the age of 3 or 4. Until March 21, it's worth
checking them out on YouTube.
INTERVIEW: Benson Lee
Benson Lee, director of the new documentary Planet B-Boy, busts out his patch of cardboard to try and change the world. From The Daily Californian.