LIKE MANY, I passed through adolescence as a child of fortune; but unlike many, I never felt the seduction of an eternal promise as the ultimate incarnation. This is all because I could not tap dance well enough.

Sure, at 16, I made my way to the national tap competition in Las Vegas, Nevada--only to be blown away by young men and women of no fortune, tapping their way out of Harlem. At first, I didn't understand why they weren't wearing tights and leotards. But clearly it was I who lacked the knowledge of how things are done in the tap world. While I was tapping in 4/4 always, their glistening bodies of sweat took on 5/4, 9/4, 13/8.... I never sweated like they did: silver beads moving slowly, then quickly, in some kind of a rhythm, down faces and making real puddles on the floor. I reeled in envy, regretting my naiveté, my tights, my upbringing--all because I knew I completely lacked any purpose while practicing my shuffle-ball-change hour after hour. And my faith in God, which had formerly been rooted in my given "talent" to tap, was over.

In this Australian flick, the two blue-collar brothers tap fantastically. And tap dancing gives them enlightenment in the midst of a drunk father and a dead mother. In the end, the alchemy of tap dancing turns a death in vain, into supreme shuffle-ball-change nirvana. But after a pleasing film lead by three lovely actors (Adam Garcia, Sophie Lee, and Sam Worthington, especially), the ending takes on an inflated purpose and ends up a lot like Stomp!! The blue-collar background becomes the setting for the tap dance finale and everybody is tapping on metal grating, lead pipes, oil drums, etc. But so what?! If tap dancing has ever been your number-one concern in life, and you generally feel tap-dancing movies ought to be made (as I do), put on your character shoes and go.