THE contemporary dance flick seems to have just one story. Blame Saturday Night Fever: virtually every hoofer drama since has had something to do with a talented kid from the wrong side of the tracks trying to get it on with classically trained virtuosi.

Here we are again. This introduces us to a hip-hop orphan who spends her nights launching guerrilla dance extravaganzas on the Baltimore subway system. Threatened with banishment to Texas, she embarks on a course in the local ballet school.

It's total rubbish, of course, but tolerable rubbish. The eccentrically named Briana Evigan may have a voice huskier than a tubercular Lee Marvin, but she knows one foot from the other and has enough charm to keep viewers awake during the inane chatter between the fine dance sequences. That said, non-terpsichorean parents accompanying their kids may wish to bring earmuffs and a comfy pillow.