Dance Craze

Watching part of a movie called THE COOL ONES on TCM. It's mostly Roddy McDowall in lots of paisley ascots and sunglasses and convertibles and tight suits, and what's wrong with that? (See also.) He's the millionaire manager (I think) of a band who sings the dance craze hit "Have a Tantrum." When the music stops, everybody freezes. The singers then advise them to "have a tantrum." When the music starts back up, everybody "has a tantrum," shaking and quaking and such. When the music pauses once more, they freeze anew, awaiting the repeated instruction to "have a tantrum," which they obey once more. And so on. Can there be any neater example of repressive desublimation? I think not! Like, you know, is dance itself the very primeval essence of repressive desublimation? All that dangerous potential energy expended in a regimented way, according to explicit instruction from an approved intermediary of the powers that be, as represented, in this case, by Roddy McDowall? Do you care? I find that difficult to believe. Yet here we are.