Well, this was a painful experience.
I had to check back to internet every fifteen minutes to check if Salsa’s origin of country would’ve magically changed to something else than USA, giving me an excuse to skip sitting through this atrocity. Alas, no. The director Boaz Davidson remained Israelian and the lead Robby Rosa and his sweat oozing curls remained firmly Puerto Rican.
The movie – the term has to be used very loosely here – is a collection of salsa music numbers and a thin plot that’s not able to tie them together to a comprehensible entity. Rico is an obnoxious character, often seen trying to run his baby sister’s life or twitching around in a theatrical manner filled with pain that is his life. The subplot of forbidden love between his best friend and his sister is a much more interesting story line, even if I’ve seen music videos with a stronger plot.
Salsa is without point, pretentious, melodramatic and seemingly clueless of all this – once again reminding me of everything I loathe about musicals.