Real-life resilience - Dirty Dancing

When I was 18, I took a Greyhound bus from Brisbane to Melbourne. It’s about 2000kms, which means there’s plenty of time to kill. This was also before smartphones, so entertainment was scarce. There was one tiny TV at the front of the bus, right next to the driver, and one battered old video player.

The driver had brought exactly one video. It was Dirty Dancing and he played it four times. It was the first (and second, third and fourth!) time I saw it. The bored bus crowd didn’t seem to mind it being on repeat, such was it’s enduring charm.

But what’s interesting is that none of us knew that we were watching a film that almost didn’t exist.

Dirty Dancing was a small, risky idea with a title that sounded like real trouble in the 80s. The writer, Eleanor Bergstein, built the story from her own experiences around summer resorts in the Catskills (upstate New York). It was a very specific world of privilege, class tension, awkward adolescence, and coming-of-age confusion. Bergstein even had the nickname “Baby” growing up, which makes the story feel very personal.

And then there was the serious subplot. An abortion storyline made executives shift uncomfortably and was called on several times to be changed. However, it was integral to the storyline and simply couldn’t be compromised.

Bergstein met producer Linda Gottlieb, who saw something in the script and helped move it into development at MGM. But shortly after MGM agreed to make it, leadership at the studio changed, priorities shifted, and the project’s internal support evaporated overnight.

Moments like this sound all too painfully familiar in business. We finally get a “yes,” and then something out of control happens (a new leader, budget cuts, or shifting priorities), and now we’re left holding the effort like some unwanted ghost.

The only thing to do was to re-route and keep looking for a way forward. Gottlieb approached all of the other major studios, but every single one rejected it. Then she approach the smaller, independent production companies, sending the script out to 43 different studios. Again, every single one of them said “no”.

Enter one believer.

Unbeknownst to Gottlieb and Bergstein, a small video distribution company called Vestron Pictures was looking to start producing their own films. They were so unknown that no one would ever send them ideas, so they got trucks to deliver rejected scripts from the major studios. One of the team at Vestron, Mitchell Cannold, would trawl through the rejected scripts, seeking a diamond in the rough. Dirty Dancing, hidden in a sea of a thousand of rejected ideas, was that diamond.

Cannold loved the story and called Gottlieb to do a deal. The original request was for an $8m budget, but Vestron offered $4.5m. With no other options, this was the only way forward.

With such a tiny budget (even by 1980s standards) the team got extremely creative. The production itself was a case study in constraints breeding innovation. They couldn’t afford to shoot the scenes in the actual Catskills in summer (way too expensive) so instead they found a lodge in Virginia that was available in September. With shifting seasons, the leaves were turning yellow, so the crew spray painted them green to give the illusion of the middle of summer! Also, the iconic scene of Johnny holding Baby in the lake took place in late September (cue cold water), which is why we only see wide shots instead of any close-ups, on account of actors being too cold!

Production wasn’t smooth, with an injury to Patrick Swayze and a tense dynamic between the two main stars that somehow made the film even more realistic and enjoyable… but it finished on budget. However, just before the final release, execs were still nervous about the plot. After a rough cut screening, one advisor reportedly told them to “Burn the negative and collect the insurance.” A folklore moment that demonstrated how little the ‘experts’ believed the film would work.

That moment is the perfect example of the confidence gap that often happens right in the messy middle. That moment between creation and launch when we just don’t know what will happen. Whether it’s a presentation, pitch, event we’ve planned or a product launch. It can be terrifying, but that’s the moment of truth.

And that moment of truth came in August 1987. Dirty Dancing hit theatres with an opening weekend around $4m. That then jumped to $8m the following weekend, and everyone fell in love with it.

The film went on to gross well over $200 million worldwide and has become a cultural phenomenon that still pays royalty checks to all of the folks who believed in it!

Nobody puts Baby in the corner. 

Sometimes the thing that looks “too niche” or “too risky” is only those things to people who can’t see the audience who are craving it. Whatever we’re building right now, whether it’s a brand, event, product, or anything that drives us, Dirty Dancing is a brilliant example that can fuel us forward.

Some practical ideas we can apply these days:

1. “No” is not always a verdict. Sometimes a “no” can be about timing, leadership change, risk tolerance, or politics. All things that are often outside of our control. What is our control is what we choose to do next. MGM’s management change killed momentum, but not the idea. Often it just forces us to change perspective and look for alternative paths forward. The power is in asking what we can do next, and then move forward as quickly as possible.

2. There’s always a believer. Not everyone is going to love what we’re doing, but someone will. And when we find our people, it’s energizing. Vestron wasn’t playing the same game as the major studios, which is why they could say yes. But if we don’t stay in the fight long enough, those believers will almost certainly never find us.

3. Get creative. This is often my favourite way forward. When the budget gets slashed, look for creative solutions. Spray painting leaves seems ridiculous, until we realize people are still talking about this film 40 years later! That mindset alone can save companies and teams from inertia.

4. Protect the spine. What’s the one thing we won’t compromise because it holds the whole promise together? Once we know that, it becomes the thread that we’ll refer back to over and over. Resilience doesn’t mean rigidity at all costs, but there comes a time where we know something represents our integrity over everything else. For Dirty Dancing, that edgy sub-plot was something that drove the whole idea forward and couldn’t be compromised.

Resilience is so much more than just surviving rejection. It’s mostly about keeping our nerve long enough to find the route that gets us to the people who were waiting for us all along. And that’s where the most enduring ideas thrive.

Until next time friends, stay resilient.

Carré at Resilient Minds

PS - there is so much more to the making of Dirty Dancing, but I aim to keep these newsletters as brief as possible. If you want to dive in further, check out “The movies that made us” series on Netflix.