Explained (2018–…): Season 3, Episode 11 - Dance Crazes - full transcript

From the waltz to voguing, dance crazes have connected people throughout history. But when a dance catches on, who gets the credit - and compensation?

[narrator] In 1983,

TV history was made
when Michael Jackson did this.

It was just 2.5 seconds,

and yet, it left
a permanent cultural mark.

But three decades earlier,
at Harlem's Apollo Theater,

Bill Bailey did the exact same move.

It's a common story.

Madonna's choreography,
in her 1990 video "Vogue,"

made it a party trick to strike a pose.

But voguing had been
an underground culture for years.

After Miley Cyrus shook her butt
at the VMAs in 2013,



twerking was added
to the Oxford Dictionary.

But the rapper Big Freedia
was bouncing that **** in her videos

back when Miley
still thought boys had cooties.

This video kicked off one of
the biggest dance crazes of 2019

and helped Charli D'Amelio's
rise to TikTok royalty.

But another teenager, Jalaiah Harmon,
actually invented The Renegade,

posting this video weeks earlier.

And the moves in that dance sequence
go back way further than that.

Built on decades
of hip hop and African dance.

Social dance is essentially group-think.

We figure out together
how we want to move and we give it a go.

[narrator] And that's happening
faster than ever before.

-What are the hottest dances?
-They have "Up" by Cardi B.

Oh, my gosh, me and Chris made that dance.
That's viral.



-This right here.
-"Corvette Corvette."

-"Corvette Corvette."
-"Laffy Taffy."

We were dancing to "Old Town Road"
way before it was a hit.

-Yeah.
-Like this too.

You're vibing.

-"Lock it, lock it."
-"Hit the Quan."

-Tap the wall.
-Like shake it, clap.

It's like "Ju Ju On."

Basically, every hit song
in the last two years

has had a dance challenge.

[narrator] All of these dances
have been performed by millions,

but there's a lot of money
to be made off of a dance craze.

In between Charli D'Amelio's dance videos,

you'll find her lounging
in an exclusive Dunkin' pajama set

and posing with other Dunkin' merch,

one of the many brands eager to reach
her more than 117 million followers

for up to an estimated
six figures per post.

And the game Fortnite
literally sells dance crazes.

The couple dollars people pay
for add-ons like these

add up to billions
of dollars a year in profit.

There's a very clear kind of inequality

between the biggest money-makers
who make money off of dance trends

and then everyone else.

[narrator] So, what makes a dance a craze?

And who should get the profit from it?

[man 1] Some women freed of restraint
found release in the Charleston.

[woman] From now on, dancing and fun
are one and the same thing

for the boy and girl.

Al Gore and I will do the Macarena.

Everybody out there doing the Soulja Boy,
everybody's Superman.

[man 2] They choose their own style
and give it their all.

[Rowland] Humans are pretty weak animals.

We're not very fast.

We're not very strong,
and our skin is very soft.

To predators,
we seem like pretty suitable prey.

So according to one evolutionary theory,
we learned a trick.

By standing together and moving in sync,

we can make ourselves look like a much
bigger beast and scare away predators.

In other words,

we may have started
synchronizing to survive.

It's hardwired into us.

If two people sit in rocking chairs
beside each other,

they'll subconsciously start moving
back and forth in parallel.

And when we move in sync,
our bodies give us a jolt of endorphins,

which encourages us to do it more
to intimidate our enemies,

to worship our gods, to celebrate,

to grieve, and to connect as a community.

But strangers
moving in sync with each other?

That's a pretty recent phenomenon.

Dance crazes have
really amazing life cycles

that have several, sort of, portions.

[drumroll]

So there's always
a kind of originaire community

that starts to think,
"Hey, what if this was a dance?"

And then that dance gets shared out,
usually in a really local context.

[Rowland] In the case of arguably
the world's first dance craze,

that would be
the mountain villages of Austria.

"Waltzen" in German means "to turn."

And couples would spin and also
move together in a circle around the room.

This was very different from the popular
dances in Europe's royal courts,

which were rigid and difficult,
with detailed choreography

down to where to look
and what facial expression to have.

Men and women
held each other at arm's length,

but the waltz was more intimate,
looser, faster.

Women would even
lift their skirts up a little,

scandalously exposing their ankles.

But even an amazing dance like this
can't become a craze

unless it finds a way to spread.

According to one theory,
you can thank Napoléon Bonaparte,

whose army plowed through Europe
in the early 1800s

taking the waltz with it.

Napoléon never invaded England,

but the waltz did.

And then it sailed on ships
across the Atlantic to the United States.

But that's only half the journey.

Then there's the part where,
and this is pretty much inevitable,

there'll be people
who are essentially haters.

[drumroll]

In the US, the 1840 edition of
Etiquette for Ladies, said of the waltz,

"There is something
in the close approximation of persons,

in the attitudes, and in the motion,

which ill agrees
with the delicacy of woman."

Others warned it could
incite "violent emotions,"

"agitation," "nervous symptoms,"

and "do more injury to the young
than many of the vices

that are preached against
from the pulpit."

But…

The dance will not be denied.
People have to dance.

[Rowland] Bringing us to the final step.

The waltz craze lasted
for roughly two centuries,

making the careers
of some composers, like…

[man 1] Johann Strauss.

[Rowland] …with his hit waltz song,
"The Blue Danube."

[man 2] Probably more people have dipped
and swayed and twirled to this waltz

than to any other.

[Rowland] But the waltz would have
a hard time becoming a craze today,

in large part because it doesn't fit
inside the frame of a phone.

The common joke about TikTok dances

is that they look like 
you're conducting air traffic

because they're so upper body oriented
and they have kind of angular movements.

[Rowland] So they stay inside the frame,
and then center stage is your face.

[Zhang] If you ask Charli D'Amelio,

she'll say that facial expressions
are the number one key

to making a good video.

People want that kind of
animated expression.

[Rowland] The most popular TikTokers
know how to use their stanky face,

the coy tongue bite,
and the "uh-uh!" face,

all while doing really fast moves.

And the life cycle of a dance craze
has gotten faster too.

First, you invent a dance.

I was just bored one day
on the bus coming home.

I was like, "This is a good song,
I'll make up a dance to it."

[Rowland] And then,
you decide to share it.

Maybe you post it on Dubsmash,
a TikTok rival.

Dubsmash came first.

I would say Black creators
were all on Dubsmash.

[Rowland] And after you post it,
suddenly your friends start doing it.

Which feels awesome. And then, amazingly,

your friends' friends start doing it.

One of them posts their video to TikTok,

and suddenly,
a famous TikToker is doing your dance.

You can't even believe it.

And before you know it,
thousands of people are doing it.

My dance hash just went viral!

[Rowland] Other big influencers
are jumping in on the trend.

And now YouTubers are creating
whole tutorials about how to do it.

Meanwhile, that famous TikToker's
followers have skyrocketed,

and that kind of following is power,

because now, maybe record labels
see a potential new pop star

and a national TV show invites them on
to promote their record.

And joining us in studio,
Addison Rae is here.

[Rowland] And to give a demo
of all those fun dance crazes on TikTok,

including yours.

So when my dance
was on Jimmy Fallon at first,

I see Addison Rae do it, I was like…

I was, like, shocked,
'cause I was like, "Oh, my gosh."

It was like,
"Wow, my dance is on national television."

All these people, like, see my dance.

But the bad part about it was,
they don't know it's me and Mya's dance.

[Rowland] That 2021 Jimmy Fallon segment
didn't credit the creators

of any of these dances,
most of whom were Black teenagers.

As I sit down, you start to think.
You're like,

"Dang, bro, I wish that was me
performing my own dance."

[Rowland] And that feeling is almost
as old as dance crazes themselves.

Because after the waltz,

most dance crazes
didn't come out of Europe.

They started in
the African American community.

When African Americans were enslaved
and brought to the United States,

drumming was banned.

So we learn how to keep
the beat on our bodies.

That beat is kind of
a basic Pattin' Juba beat.

[Rowland] After emancipation…

It becomes the foundation
of the Charleston.

[Rowland] …named for the southern city
where it was invented by Black Americans

in their first years of freedom.

It becomes a dance
that allows people to express

a kind of liveliness
and imagining something else, like,

"What if I lived in a big city,
and not South Carolina? How would I move?"

[swing music playing]

[Rowland] And then it spread,

many believe thanks to a group of orphans
who had a touring brass band

and performed the Charleston
when they played.

When millions of African Americans
migrated north,

they took the dance with them,

arriving in New York City
just when nightclubs were taking off,

where it was embraced
by hip, young white people

and despised by their parents.

Several cities banned it.

Doctors warned that "Charleston knee"
could shorten your lifespan,

that kids were dancing themselves
into "physical wrecks"

with "overstrained hearts"
and "a dozen other disorders."

But the dance couldn't be stopped.

Debuting on Broadway in 1923

in one of the first all-Black productions.

And then the American dancer,
Josephine Baker,

the Beyoncé of her time,
carried it across Europe,

and audiences flocked
for a chance to see it.

[man] Charleston caught
the spirit of the '20s

and everyone was doing it.

There was this promise--

And this is how I wanna do it,
as a gesture.

This vitality
of a kind of electrified future.

[Rowland] The Charleston is one way
we remember the Roaring '20s.

The style, the energy, who was there.

But in forgetting the original dance,

it's easier to forget
the history it represents.

And this whole process
gets more complicated

when a single person
can get credit for a dance craze

by spreading it to millions of people,
instantaneously.

Ladies and gentlemen,
here's Chubby Checker!

My favorite thing
about this clip is the audience.

They're all sitting in their chairs

and clapping
on the wrong beat of the music

and looking very suspiciously
at each other like they're not sure

if they should like it
or try to do it or not.

[Rowland] The host of that show,
Dick Clark,

had asked Chubby Checker
to record the song.

The original had made the R&B charts
a few years before

by Hank Ballard and the Midnighters.

But it was Checker's version
that hit number 1 in the US twice,

and charted around the world.

A few years earlier, Elvis's hip gyrations
had scandalized the nation.

While a few years later,
youth culture would get radicalized.

The Twist was a dance for its moment,

sexy enough to upset kids' parents,
but not too much.

You can definitely do the Twist
in the Charleston

or you can definitely do the Twist
in the Cakewalk.

It's not its own thing really.

[Rowland] But that was a secret
to its success.

It was super easy.

You really didn't have to learn
hardly anything to do the Twist.

[Rowland] Chubby Checker followed up
with easy-to-follow dances like the Fly,

Pony Time,

Let's Twist Again,

and in 1962, Limbo Rock.

And labels caught on.

Dance crazes sold records.

Some tried to teach people new moves.

but that's hard to do
in a series of stills.

So they mostly did what…

[man] Johann Strauss.

[Rowland] …had done two centuries earlier,

hopping on the bandwagon
of a dance that was already popular.

"Do You Love Me" by The Contours
packed two into one chorus.

♪ I can Mash Potato
I can Mash Potato ♪

♪ I can do the Twist
I can do the Twist ♪

[Rowland] And then
dance crazes got funkier.

Soul Train debuted in 1971.

It's like another planet.

Each dancer does something
that's related to what came before

but entirely its own thing.

[Rowland] Soul Train was
America's first national program

by and for Black people.

It does that thing
where it makes you want to join in

and dance and show your moves too.

I better not try to do that move.
That's a little much.

[Rowland] It became the longest running
TV show in American history,

popularizing the Funky Chicken,

Popping,

the Robot,

and, of course,

the Soul Train Line.

But while dances like these
could sell records,

they weren't exactly valuable
by themselves

because they probably
couldn't be copyrighted.

In one landmark copyright case,

someone once tried
to copyright a phone book.

And the Copyright Office said,
"No, you can't copyright the phone book."

But it said in that opinion, anything
more creative than the phone book

ought to qualify for copyright protection.

[Rowland] That's not the reality.

The US Copyright Office says
a dance has to be a "choreographic work,"

which it says, typically has
one or more of these elements:

"Rhythmic movement

arranged in a series
that is coherent and expressive

that tells a story for an audience

by skilled individuals
and is set to music."

Of course, ballet does this,
almost every ballet.

[Rowland] Compare that
to something like the Charleston

that was originally created
in a social setting by amateurs

for their own amusement.

So the Copyright Office
has not been willing to register

what they would consider social dances.

[Rowland] In fact, the US Copyright Office
specifically says,

"Social dances and simple routines
can't be registered as distinct works,"

with examples like
ballroom, square, and swing dances.

But these guidelines were written
before the MTV Age.

Music videos like Michael Jackson's
"Beat It" in 1983 were a new art form.

In fact, this video
is heralded as the first

to pair a pop song with a dance that
was challenging and original to the song.

It was the dawn of a new era where people
could study a dance on repeat,

like MC Hammer's Hammer Dance.

♪ Stop!
Hammer time! ♪

[Rowland] The Digital Underground's
Humpty Dance.

♪ Do the Humpty Hump
Come on and do the Humpty Hump ♪

[Rowland] Madonna's version of voguing.

♪ Vogue ♪

[Rowland] And, of course, the Macarena.

♪ Hey, Macarena ♪

[Rowland] Then with YouTube,

dances could travel
the world easier than ever.

People were Chicken Noodle Souping,

dancing the Passinho,

and teaching each other
how to Dougie through the 2000s.

And then Psy's "Gangnam Style"
broke YouTube.

Seriously though, it exceeded the maximum
number of views a video could have,

and they had to redo
the view limits on the site.

And then came social media apps,

like Dubsmash and TikTok
where dance crazes were even harder.

In fact, they're called
"dance challenges."

And the biggest crazes

aren't coming from musicians anymore
to boost record sales,

but from fans
who can take an artist's song

and find some degree
of fame and fortune just by dancing to it.

And a dance like this is performed
in front of an audience of sorts

by people who are pretty skilled.

But it's still not clear if these dances

could be registered
at the Copyright Office.

There's very little case law
on choreography actually.

[Rowland] The creators
behind those Fortnite dances

filed lawsuits claiming the game
was unfairly profiting off their work,

including Alfonso Ribeiro
who you may know as Carlton.

But a California court
said they need to register

first with the Copyright Office.

And in Alfonso's case,

the Copyright Office
said it was "too simple a routine."

And so it didn't qualify.

That's one of the ironies of this.

Fortnite, if you tried to touch
any of the stuff they're doing,

they would have 10 lawyers
suing you for copyright infringement,

threatening to take your house away.

[Rowland] Even the Charleston
is on Fortnite.

I wanna go further and say Fortnite should
be ashamed of themselves for doing this,

but they aren't ashamed.

[Rowland] But the fact that dance
mostly isn't copyrighted

has also been an engine of creativity.

There's definitely something lost
if people are very vigorously

pursuing copyright claims
against each other for dance moves,

and you kind of lose
this creative practice,

and there's not this kind of
lineage of reinterpretation

and adding your own commentary.

It would lose
the social part of the social dance.

[Rowland] And a lot of the creators
behind dance crazes today

don't necessarily want the people
who do their dances to pay them.

They just wanna be credited.

[Greene] There are tremendous endorsement
opportunities for people who

go viral for these dances.

And so not being credited is really
damaging the creators of these works.

[Rowland] In the summer of 2021,
Black TikTok creators went on strike.

So it was impossible to ignore
how much of today's dance culture

depends on their creativity.

If they know they didn't make up
the dance, just give credit.

It is not that hard. It's really not.

[Rowland] But at the very least,

the culture around crediting
has started to show signs of change.

Now if you're a popular influencer
and you do someone's dance,

there is the expectation that you will

put in your caption DC or dance credits
and then tag the original creator.

[Rowland] Even Fortnite has started
tagging and crediting

the creators of its latest dance emotes.

And that Jimmy Fallon segment
with Addison Rae,

it sparked an immediate backlash.
And then…

I was sitting in the car,

actually picking up my grandma
for something when I got the message.

I was jumping up and down
saying, "Mama, look!"

I felt excited. I was like, "Oh, my gosh."

I was so happy.

I have to be dreaming.

There's no way I'm getting the opportunity
to go on national television

in front of all these people
to perform my dance.

[Rowland] It was something
of an apology segment

and the original creators
got to show America their own moves.

[Johnson] After I got
to go on Jimmy Fallon,

I have gotten,
like, a lot of different opportunities.

I got a lot of promotions,
a lot of followers.

Two famous rappers
flew me out to LA to do a music video.

That's what I have been working on.

I'm pretty sure it came
from the Jimmy Fallon experience.

I hope to become something very big.

I am gonna become
something very big one day.

Like, I'm here.

[DeFrantz] The dance is
an opportunity to dream.

And this dreaming
is something that African Americans,

maybe we don't get this in our history.

African Americans
were denied access to social life,

but in the dance,
something else is possible.

In the dance, we can express outrage.

We can express desire.

We can express
a kind of wondering at a future,

like what could
50 years from now feel like?

I know, I'll make it into a dance.
I'll dance like I'm a robot.

That'll help me imagine
some kind of futuristic possibility.

[Rowland] Voguing was born in the 1980s
when queer communities of color in Harlem

imagined a world where they could be
models or royalty or anything they wanted.

The moonwalk
comes out of the tap tradition,

a creative response
to the ban of drums during slavery.

And the twerking motion

is a foundational move
in many West African dances,

often performed
in ceremonies celebrating life.

When dances aren't credited,

it's easier to forget
that they're historical artifacts

passed down and shaped by each generation,

and in turn defining them.

Our ancestors may have first moved in sync
to pretend we were stronger.

But studies show

dance actually makes us
more empathetic towards one another.

More patient, more generous,
and less prejudiced.

It creates what researchers call
"self-other blurring."

The other person feels
like they're an extension of us.

[Greene] Dance is life. Isn't it?

It's life itself.

I dance because
it makes me feel the most free.

[man 1] It's how I speak.

-It's how I communicate.
-[woman] It's what makes me human.

[man 2] I believe it's the most vulnerable
form of communication.

[DeFrantz] So dance isn't only about
finding a romantic partner,

or kind of showing off
something you already know.

Dance also gives us an opportunity
to share who we think we want to be.

[all cheering]

[closing theme music playing]