Sundance ‘26: ‘HA-CAN SHAKE YOUR BOOTY’ Is a Joyous Celebration of Movement and Change

Loving married couple Haru (Rinko Kikuchi) and Luis (Damián Alcázar) have been practicing for the amateur Latin senior dance contest in director Josef Kubota Wladyka’s Ha-Chan Shake Your Booty. At home, Haru watches ballroom dance videos, studiously. Luis lovingly calms her nerves. They are prepared. They are in love. When their dance finally comes, in the midst of its larger-than-life climax, Luis is struck dead. Haru is left spinning.

In the aftermath of tragedy, Haru, affectionately known as Ha-Chan, retreats from the world, hiding out in her apartment and avoiding her family and friends. Everyone agrees: Ha-Chan must find a way to move on by moving her body and getting her literal and metaphorical groove back.

That reentry to the world comes in the form of her new dance instructor, Fedir (Alberto Guerra). When Haru discovers that he is in an open marriage, she feigns that she is too, nervous to reveal that her husband is in fact dead, lest he look down on her. The two engage in an ENM tryst, only for poor Ha-Chan to catch feelings. In life and love, she seems doomed for heartbreak.

The film from Wladyka establishes early on its surreal mix of tones. Elements of surrealism collide with blistering moments of grief. Soaring bodies, ridiculous title cards splicing the movie into chapters with silly voiceovers, dramatic zoom-ins complete with sound effects, and a big black sparrow mascot—the absurd physical manifestation of Haru’s grief and inability to move forward.

It’s a movie having fun with itself, in love with color and movement and life. As complex as life can be: lighthearted, gentle, affectionate, and filled with love and joy, in some moments, dark, hopeless, and painfully grueling in others. Ha-Chan’s emotions can be a bit messy, but such is the process of grief. As her sister Yuki (Yoh Yoshida) says, “Messy can be fun.” When it breaks out in spontaneous dance or traps Ha-Chan in an impossibly awkward situation, it’s impossible to ignore its intoxicating effect.

Kikuchi offers a performance that flickers with sorrow, hope, and longing, embodying a woman who aches to move forward but keeps glancing back. Her vulnerability grounds the film’s surprisingly tender take on open marriage, where desire doesn’t cancel out grief and new connections don’t erase old ones. Ha Chan Shake Your Booty uses its absurdist comedy and vibrant dance sequences to circle something quietly profound—the messiness of holding on, the courage it takes to release, and the strange, joyous dance that happens in between.

CONCLUSION: A crowd-pleasing and playful story about finding the will to move on through the power of dance, ‘Ha-Chan Shake Your Booty’ shines brightest when it embraces its goofiness and lets the music lead. It’s a delightful, high-spirited burst of joy.