'Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights'
Two words: guilty pleasure

THE THINGS SOME people may be wondering about the appearance, after 17 long, lonely, Johnny Castle-free years, of Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights are (a) why?, and (b) why now? Put these thoughts aside and consider instead adorable, incredibly hot Diego Luna (Y tu mamá también), the Cuban pool boy to Romola Garai's bookish St. Louis expat in a film we're to think of not as a sequel, or a prequel, but as a "reimagining." It's 1958, the eve of the revolution, and teenager Katey Miller (Garai) finds herself suddenly uprooted to Havana and living at the elite Hotel Oceana. Enter young Javier (Luna), add some Latin rhythms Katey never learned back home, and the rest is, well, history, sort of. Those looking for a movie in which the climactic moments of the Cuban revolution aren't back-burnered in favor of true romance and dance fever should keep walking. Those looking to have the time of their lives may also be disappointed because come on, it's not the original Dirty Dancing, and it never will be (plus, the cameo awarded to Patrick Swayze is a little creepy). However, Havana Nights has plenty of hot, sweaty, dry-humping dance action, and Katey and Javier manage to demonstrate some moments of actual chemistry. For better and for worse, teen film heroines have gained a fair bit of polish since 1987, and while many themes, plotlines, and conversational threads resurface from the original, the first film's bumbling plain Jane has been jettisoned in favor of a self-assured, articulate girl who wouldn't be caught dead babbling about watermelons. The only things besides the revolution to get put in a corner here are a few languishing subplots, wisely sacrificed in favor of more scenes of Garai and Luna melting down on the dance floor. (Lynn Rapoport)