In 1980, a small town in Oklahoma faced a “scandal” so old fashioned that People Magazine wrote an expose on it. When Elmore City, OK, was incorporated in 1898, one of the laws they passed banned public dancing except at private invite-only events. By 1980, Elmore City had grown to a population of 653, and the same old laws were on the books. The high school students finally wanted a prom, an idea that was narrowly approved by the school board in the face of fierce opposition by Pentecostal Reverend F.R. Johnson. Speaking at a town meeting about the prom, Rev Johnson stated “No good has ever come of a dance.” The students won out and a dance was held, but the story was juicy enough to garner national attention, even from People Magazine.

Footloose doesn’t make a big deal that it was inspired by a true story. It doesn’t have “inspired by a true story” anywhere near the credits. Yet, it has its roots in true Americana. Kevin Bacon is Ren McCormack, a high schooler who moved from Chicago to the small town of Bomont where Rev. Moore (John Lithgow) has banned rock music and dancing after a terrible tragedy befell the city. Through the power of rebellion with a killer soundtrack (as well as listening and conversations), Ren manages to convince the town that oppressive laws dictated by a totalitarian religion will lead to a path of no good.

Footloose isn’t a musical in the traditional sense, but it operates like one. Nobody actually sings the songs out loud, with the soundtrack mostly existing from a diegetic source and taking over the soundtrack. Sammy Hagar blasts out as the preacher’s daughter does the splits between a pickup and a car barreling down a two-lane road. Ren puts on a cassette of Moving Pictures’ “Never” before dancing out all of his angst around a warehouse early in the morning. Kevin Bacon shouts “Let’s Dance!!” before Kenny Loggins’ title track blasts out while all the teens dance in their warehouse. The songs are as much a part of their scene as any musical.

Director Herbert Ross had a background in choreography before he made it behind the camera. He choreographed scenes from Carmen Jones and Summer Holiday before getting behind the camera for musicals (Goodbye, Mr. Chips, Funny Girl) and ballets (Nijinsky). He also directed a bunch of Neil Simon plays and the bizarro cult classic The Last of Sheila (written by Stephen Sondheim and Anthony Perkins).

Ross’ old-school staging both helps and hinders him in Footloose, a movie straining to take advantage of the new camera dominance of 80s action movies and Grease, but stifled by the desire to make the dancer and movement the star. Every number in Footloose, which only has a handful of actual dance numbers (including a couple goofy moves by a brawny Chris Penn), is an act of conflict and defiance. And they’re all in contrast to the actual dramatics which pits the hormones of youth against the conservative religious values of old. It’s a ramshackle affair, never quite cohering as a singularity but having enough charm to make it endearing.

Footloose streams on Netflix