Sue Bourne's documentary aims to do for Irish dancing what Spellbound did for spelling bees, and one finds comparably scary levels of dedication in the young competitors, not to mention in their parents.
The 40th Irish Dancing World Championships draws a surprisingly international mix – Holland, the US, Russia, Northern Ireland – though I found myself utterly caught up in the fate of Birmingham waif John as he practised for the 11-12 year-olds section final. In truth, there's something faintly disturbing in the Little Miss Sunshine sparkle of fake tans, frozen smiles and diamante-studded outfits – it's like a convention of pubertal Liberace impersonators. The dancing is, in its way, breathtaking.
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