After being shut out of Sundance, director Marilyn Agrelo’s documentary Mad Hot Ballroom went on to blow the doors off at the neighboring Slamdance festival, causing a ferocious bidding war among studios looking to cash in on a possible feel-good phenomenon. Happily, her film, which focuses on three NY schools as they prepare for a state-wide dance-off, proves to be one of those all-too-rare looks at kids that doesn’t cause dangerous spikes in insulin levels. During her recent stop in town for the Seattle International Film Festival, the first-time director displayed a Denny Terrio level of poise, despite opening earlier that morning in nine cities against, of all things, George Lucas’s 8-gazillion-pound gorilla.

How did the project get started?

An old friend of mine named (writer/co-producer) Amy Sewell covered the Tribeca school for her local paper, and when the article came out in July 2003, came to me and said, “Oh my God, this was so amazing, can you make a documentary about this with me?” And she wanted to follow the same school again, but I thought it would be more interesting if we contrasted a few more kids doing this. What attracted me is, you know, New York is the most diverse place in the world, let’s see how poor kids do this, as opposed to just the affluent kids of Tribeca. So then we looked at 20 to 25 schools before we chose these three.

How did you settle on those three?

When we started to look at our pool of schools, it became instinctive: two would be too opposed to each other, and four felt like too much, logistically. Three felt good. We were already going to do the Tribeca kids, and what made them so special was the fact that they come from families that are educated; their parents are writers and lawyers and these kids talk … it’s almost scary how evolved and exposed and verbal they are. When we first went to the school, one of the kids asked us if we had a distribution deal in place (laughing) and then he went into a whole diatribe about how we have to get Bush out of the White House. Then in Washington Heights, I really liked them because I’m Cuban and I liked having this immigrant group of kids from a harsh neighborhood who don’t have any of the advantages Tribeca has. Also, their teacher was so driven, and made no bones about wanting the trophy… I thought, no matter what happens, this one’s gonna be great. The school in Brooklyn, they were like the working class kids—the most pure, uncomplicated of the bunch. Very diverse—Asian and Italian American and a little Muslim—but the most easygoing.

How much second-guessing went on after making the final choices?

Well, Brooklyn really couldn’t dance (laughing), and we saw that very early on. They were what they were and it didn’t matter so much to them, it was like a game. But that also became part of the story, that it wasn’t life and death to all of them. So we had many different layers of involvement and commitment. And they also had some things that they brought to the table, like the boy and his friends in the basement with the foosball table. These kids had philosophies on life. We used to look at them and think, in ten years, they’re going to be just like that, but in some bar right around the corner with pool cues and beers in their hands.

I was amazed by how unguarded the kids were around the camera. How did you insinuate yourself into the group?

I didn’t expect, at first, that we would yield this kind of openness. I felt the story would come much more out of the mouths of adults. But we were with them a lot, and we had a small camera and a small crew, and that put them at ease. Also, I discovered a trick—if you put a kid in front of a camera and interview them, it’s not going to work so well, but if you put them in a group and they’re talking to each other, or in a basement playing foosball and that’s what they’re focused on, they become much more comfortable. I would sit in the corner and say, you know, “What about girls?” And that worked so well that the focus on adults fell away. I don’t think I’d ever seen such an intimate look into the lives of kids at this age. I think the age also helped, because if they were 14 or 15 they’d be more rebellious, they would be manipulative, it’s just what happens. When you’re 10 or 11, you still have some innocence and, for us, anyway, they were willing to trust us. It was almost like the dance was just a vehicle that gave us a reason to be there with them, but the best parts were when they were just opening up.

Talk about the editing process. You had 150 hours to boil down.

Our first cut was a little over five hours. And we thought, “There’s nothing more we can cut.” And of course, most of it went. It was hard, but, you know, it’s the process. And there were also things that I thought were really revealing about the kids that I took out because…they’re kids. Maybe if they were adults I would have left it in because what it says about their social background, but ultimately it wasn’t important to drive the story forward.

Is it easier to work with boys or girls?

Girls, all you had to do was press the button. Maybe, because it was an all-woman crew, they were feeling very open. They talked a lot about how they were changing and their relationships and how stupid all the boys were—just letting loose all the time. The boys… after they’d push each other and laugh for 20 minutes, then they’d start to talk.