A Warm-Hearted Visit to Small Town of ‘Dancer, Texas’

“Dancer, Texas Pop. 81” opens with four young men lounging in plastic beach chairs parked right across the middle of what has to be the least busy highway in America. It’s an unnerving sight for those who have had enough of sullen slackers and disaffected youth, but worry isn’t necessary. “Dancer, Texas” isn’t that kind of film at all.

Likable, affectionate and unashamedly warm-hearted, “Dancer, Texas” is a sentimental little picture that goes gently against the grain. Its young people all have ambitions, though they haven’t necessarily thought them through, and what the film sacrifices in terms of hipness it more than makes up for by allowing the audience to actually care about the choices these people end up making.

Waiting around for their high school graduation later that Friday afternoon, the quartet is engaged in writing a letter to Rand McNally politely insisting that their tiny town, a classic wide spot in the road, is worth being put on the map. “Dancer’s isolated location,” writes Keller (Breckin Meyer), the group’s motivator, “makes it a perfect spot for the weary traveler.”

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Actually these four 18-year-olds, best friends who make up almost all of Dancer’s graduating class, are not ideally situated to boast about the town’s virtues. On Monday morning, they’re scheduled to fulfill a “solemn vow” they all took when they were 11 and board a bus taking them to Los Angeles and what the commencement speaker grandly characterizes as “that adventure called life.”

No sooner does graduation end, however, than the town’s laconic West Texas population starts to kibitz that decision. The last guy from Dancer who went to L.A., someone remembers, ended up murdered in prison. The four insist they’re leaving, but the town’s adults, who know “a lot can happen between now and Monday,” begin taking bets on how many if any of the boys will be on the bus.

What that final weekend offers us is the opportunity to get to know the quartet as individuals, to see the forces driving them to leave as well as the ones pushing them to stay and to observe these young men as they try to decide if their upbringing made them miss out on chances or gave them things other kids didn’t have.

Keller, who’s been doing research and making charts on the trip for years, is clearly the ringleader. With a crusty fly-hating grandfather as his only living relative, he’s the most intent on leaving. But his three friends turn out to be increasingly ambivalent as the weekend wears on, worrying about life in “a city of 13 million strangers” as well as their own personal dilemmas.

Terrell Lee (Peter Facinelli), the only son of the town’s only oilman, has to contend with his relentless, steamroller mother (“thirtysomething’s” Patricia Wettig), who yammers at him about his responsibilities to tradition and doesn’t hesitate to insist that he join his father in the family business.

If Terrell Lee is the town Valentino, going steady with two girls, Squirrel (Ethan Embry) is its lost soul, unable to connect with women and living with his reprobate father in a trailer that appears to be permanently tilted.

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Finally, there is quiet, responsible John (Eddie Mills), whose taciturn rancher father says as much in a year as many men say in an evening. Still, John has an enviable bond with his younger sister (Ashley Johnson of “Growing Pains”) and has come to enjoy ranch life almost in spite of himself.

One of the accomplishments of “Dancer, Texas” is to be even-handed about the virtues of going and staying, making a case for the pleasures of a population 81 town without being dishonest or excessive. It makes you believe the truth of the character who says, “Some folks don’t belong in a small town, some folks don’t belong anywhere else.”

“Dancer, Texas” wouldn’t be as pleasant as it is without the authenticity of its feeling for its specific time and place, much of which can be traced to writer-director Tim McCanlies. A fifth-generation Texan who has written in Hollywood for more than a decade without creating a sensation, McCanlies wrote the “Dancer” script in 1984 but was reluctant to let anyone else direct.

Helped by talented young actors who have completely embraced their roles, “Dancer, Texas” brings us back to a time in life when one yearns to do something big without really knowing what that might be. By the time that bus pulls into town Monday morning, we’re as eager as those cagey local bettors to know who will go and who will stay.

* MPAA rating: PG, for language. Times guidelines: nothing to give offense.

‘Dancer, Texas Pop. 81’

Breckin Meyer: Keller

Peter Facinelli: Terrell Lee

Eddie Mills: John

Ethan Embry: Squirrel

Ashley Johnson: Josie

Patricia Wettig: Mrs. Lusk

A HSX Films production in association with Chase Productions and Caribou Pictures, released by TriStar Pictures. Director Tim McCanlies. Producers Chase Foster, Peter White, Dana Shaffer. Executive producers Michael Burns, Leanna Creel. Screenplay Tim McCanlies. Cinematographer Andrew Dintenfass. Editor Rob Kobrin. Costumes Susan Matheson. Music Steve Dorff. Production design Dawn Snyder. Art director Jeff Adams. Set decorator Beau Peterson. Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes.

* Playing in selected theaters.