Alive and Kicking (1996)

Alive and Kicking earns its place among the best AIDS-era dramas by refusing to be a sermon: it’s a funny, bruisingly alive film that finds grace in motion, music, and the stubborn will to keep dancing. The tone balances sharp wit with an undercurrent of urgency, letting the comedy land precisely because the stakes feel real, and because the performances are so fearless. Antony Sher and Jason Flemyng create a relationship that’s messy, tender, and bracingly honest, with an intensity that never tips into melodrama. It won’t be for viewers who want escapism or easy answers, but if you’re open to something moving and genuinely affecting, it’s the kind of film that stays in your body long after it ends.

Alive and Kicking aims for an earnest, life-affirming blend of dance-world ambition and a romance shaped by mortality, and you can feel how badly it wants to be profound. The problem is it often reaches for poetry and lands on strained, occasionally pretentious dialogue, with subplots that feel tacked on rather than organically earned. The pacing can turn tedious in stretches, and the finale goes for big emotion in a way that may read as corny and melodramatic instead of cathartic. If you’re in the mood for a sincere, character-driven drama and can forgive some clunky writing for the sake of its heart, it may still connect; if you crave subtlety and tight storytelling, it’ll likely test your patience.