'A Quiet Storm' Documentary Review: An Inspiring Short Film About Krumping

A Quiet Storm is yet another reminder that dance is a beautiful artform and we should invest in it so that it becomes a viable career for those who love to express themselves through dance. Do you remember that period in the 2000s when everybody was interested in dancing? Yes, we had and we still have musicals, but I think it was after the release of Step Up that people, especially from my generation, started to see it as something that they could make a career out of. Due to the success of Step Up, we got countless other movies like it; for example, ABCD: Anybody Can Dance, Stomp the Yard, Honey, StreetDance, Magic Mike, Footloose (the remake), Aaja Nachle, and Honey. People were obsessed with reality TV shows like Boogie Woogie, So You Think You Can Dance, Jhalak Dikhhla Jaa, and Dance India Dance. On YouTube, I used to follow channels like Urban Dance Camp, 1Million Dance Studio, Kyle Hanagami, and TheQuickStyle. While I am sure people are still dancing, dance videos are going viral, and dance is being seen as a career option, I have a feeling that this artform isn’t as “common,”  or maybe even as accessible as it used to be before. And watching A Quiet Storm made me wish that dance became as “buzzy” again as it was in the 2000s.

A Quiet Storm tells the story of Maito, a 14-year-old kid from suburban Tokyo who is passionate about Krumping. He wants to make a name for himself in the world of dance but, as mentioned before, due to its popularity during the 2000s and 2010s, the artform has become pretty cutthroat. Hence, Maito has to decide if he wants to focus on his studies, get good grades, go to college, secure a decent job, and live the rest of his life as a cog in the machine, or if he should risk it all by trying to become a domestically or internationally renowned dancer. On the personal front, Maito seemingly feels the burden of realizing the dreams of his mother, Itsuka, while also helping her take care of his specially-abled sibling, Ayumu. A surface-level reading of their dynamic makes it seem like it’s a very normal household, but when Maito starts dancing, all of his complex feelings about his family become apparent. While it’s normal for dancers to channel their innermost emotions through the artform, it’s dangerous when said emotions start affecting your dance in a negative way. Hence, at such a young age, Maito has to figure out where the fine line between expressing himself through dance and venting through dance exists. And he needs to be quick about it, because life (and tournaments) won’t stop for anyone regardless of how talented they are.

In an ideal world, every artform should have been accessible to the masses. I know that some people will say that art shouldn’t be used to earn money, but I disagree with that sentiment, because artists need money to keep making more art. However, I do think that existing in the world of art shouldn’t be as cutthroat as it is right now. Much like any job in the world, it’s like you have to be the very best at dancing, painting, or making movies, or else you’ll be chucked into the void. Because the space that is needed for art to thrive is being decided by capitalists and governments that support said capitalists. Capitalists earn money through so many different avenues. They could have totally avoided turning dance into such a competitive sport and instead presented it as a good career option. Governments collect insane levels of money by taxing the population. Ideally, that money could have been used to create opportunities for artists where they could perform without worrying about the financial side of it all. It’s not like we don’t need dancers, or that people don’t enjoy watching dance anymore; it’s just that, due to inflation, dancing has started to seem like a luxury rather than a conduit to express our innermost feelings (and live off of it). Thankfully, people like Maito are still dancing, still expressing, and still fighting the odds.

There’s a slow-motion scene of Maito dancing in the rain, and it nearly brought me to tears; I don’t exactly know why. It made me think about how there’s so much beauty in this world, so much beauty that we humans have within ourselves, and how all of it is being smothered by this overwhelming ugliness that’s being imposed upon us by those in power. That shot of this kid Krumping like there’s no tomorrow is pretty simple, but when you remember the socio-cultural atmosphere he’s performing in, every move he’s making gains so much depth and gravitas. There’s another moment in the gymnasium in Maito’s apartment, where he’s practicing his moves while Ayumu is observing him. And the choice to suddenly mute the music and just let his moves do the talking is genuinely sublime. Overall, the filmmaking in A Quiet Storm has a sense of intimacy and an air of prescience to it; as if Benjamin Nicolas knows that he is documenting the life of a legend. The work done by DOP Alexandre Nour, editor Marie-Pier Grignon, composer Whilem Brandl, sound designers Theo Porcet, Tanguy Meunier, and Francois Belanger, and colorist Jerome Cloutier is undoubtedly excellent. If the industry wishes to revive the dance film subgenre of musicals, then I think they should look towards this crew; they are the best.

The only criticism I have regarding A Quiet Storm is that it doesn’t show Maito’s opponent’s performance. I think it’s a time-constraint issue, or maybe a storytelling choice, but it keeps the audience from viewing Maito’s talent in an objective light. I mean, the short film does everything in its power to put us in Maito’s shoes; and the effect is quite impactful. You do empathize with Maito’s plight and root for him to succeed in any tournament. However, showing us how talented he actually is when compared to his peers would have been interesting. Yes, Maito is, without a question, extremely talented; I won’t go up against him in a dance battle. That said, the decision to cut out his opponents’ performances, so that the focus remains on Maito and Maito alone, seems a little unfair. Maito gets the reality check that he needs to keep going forward, but I think the audience should have gotten to see the gap between his abilities and those of his peers a little more clearly. Other than that, I don’t have any complaints about the short film. A Quiet Storm is a must-watch for every aspiring artist out there. You should definitely check it out when you can. Also, if you have the time, go to YouTube and check out Baby Konkrete’s (which is Maito’s super-awesome stage name) performances; they are a blast.