FROM THE DRAMATIC OPENING IMAGES of the fiery 1965 and 1992 riots in South Central Los Angeles, RIZE announces itself as a film that refuses to let go of the viewer until the very last frame. And it doesn't. The grit of the inner city permeates this documentary as vividly as any of the young cast members who blaze across the screen in dance moves that seem to defy the laws of physics.

First, we meet Tommy Johnson, a former drug dealer who reformed while in prison and got out wishing to do something positive with his life. A friend asked him to perform as a clown at a kid's birthday party, and out of such modest beginnings, Johnson, now Tommy the Clown, turned his dance moves and clowning into an original artistic movement that has swept the streets of South Central in a torrent of color, energy, and creativity. The young people who follow Tommy the Clown to perform their dancing truly do rise above the many pressures of the streets.

Along with a vibrant, nonstop soundtrack, the photography in this documentary shines as luminously as the radiant faces of the young dancers who move at such astonishing speeds that the trailer announces: "None of the scenes have been speeded up." Through brilliantly edited dance scenes and on-camera protraits of the various dancers, filmmaker David LaChappelle captures the positive energy and commitment of these young people. And that commitment extends to seeing themselves as role models for the next generation. "We're not a trend," says one of the dancers. Another talks about wanting to set an example for younger kids—not to model packaged, "commercial hip-hop" nor push values connected to money, drugs, and violence, but rather to inspire constructive ways to develop oneself.

The filmmakers skillfully draw a parallel between the posthip-hop dance moves of these young African Americans and the indigenous dances of Africa. And while Tommy the Clown has gone so far as to create a dance academy for inner-city youth who have no after-school programs, dance studios, or mentors to help develop their talent, some of Tommy's former Clowners have evolved an alternate form out of dancing called "Krumping."

Enter Ceasare Willis, aka Tight Eyez. The creator (along with Tommy and Clown) of Clowning, Tight Eyez went on to help create the Krump movement. Developing a more aggressive, "acting out" form of dance, Krumpers paint their faces like warriors (reminiscent of African tribal face painting) as they take Clowning to a different level—more street theater—to an art form that helps channel the helplessness and anger that simmer in these young people's hearts as they face violence and gang warfare in their neighborhoods every day.

And like many of these dancers, Tight Eyez brings a spiritual dimension to his art. Clearly, many of these young people have a deep love of God, which fires much of the movement's momentum. In subdued, poignant scenes later in the film, some of the dancers show their dedication to church as they dance for their congregations, and express their hope to help younger kids see that by Clowning and Krumping, they can express their God-given talent.

For the most part, people outside of the inner city haven't discovered this evolving art form. Perhaps this film will change that. Right now, the dances change from day to day, and the dancers merge and change and aligh with different groups. According to one of the dancers, over 100 Clowning and Krumping groups currently perform in South Central. In fact, Clowners and Krumpers have become so competitive that Tommy the Clown hosts a contest in a stadium-sized venue, the Great Western Forum in Los Angeles.

No doubt this documentary will resonate with lovers of dance and hip-hop simply for the mostly original soundtrack and the creativity and sheer physical athleticism of the dancers. Yet the deeper message of the film is that despite poverty and grinding day-to-day oppression of various forms, the courage of grace, the joy of Soul, the inner life of the Spirit, rise victorious even within despairing neighborhoods torn by violence. A healing thought from Science and Health comes to mind in such a setting: "The sunlight glints from the church-dome, glances into the prison-cell, glides into the sick-chamber, brightens the flower, beautifies the landscape, blesses the earth" (p. 516).

The sunlight of divine Love really does permeate the lives of these inner-city kids as they strive to overcome tremendous odds and bring creative solutions to the threatening situations that crowd into their young lives. While the PG-13 rating of the film recognizes a certain amount of adult content, mostly associated with the dancing, nothing can mar the energy and originality of the film itself—and especially of these inspiring, unforgettable dancers.