OK, so this is kind of embarrassing. High School Musical 3: Senior Year is the third in a series of frothy, phenomenally popular kids’ films that were hitherto made for and shown on television rather than in the movie theatres. They are responsible for introducing a whole generation of preteens to the joys of jazz hands and aggressively coordinated hat/trouser/sneaker ensembles. They are not the kind of films that serious film critics are meant to embrace. And yet, contrary to my expectations, I was impressed with my first taste of the HSM mega-franchise. As far as slickly produced and joyfully energetic escapism goes, High School Musical 3 is top of the class.

It may be the pop cultural event of the moment, but one of the elements that makes the film satisfying is that it is rooted in 80 years of show-stopping Hollywood tradition. Musical aficionados will spot a nod or two to the Busby Berkeley production numbers of the 1930s, but the majority of the director/ choreographer Kenny Ortega’s influences are more recent.

A fantasy number set in the school canteen unfolds into a Broadway ego trip by way of Bob Fosse, accessorised by frenzied paparazzi and an army of high-kicking hoofers. A solo dance by Troy (Zac Efron) shows the teen heart-throb working out his angst in a rotating room, an homage to Fred Astaire’s famous “dancing on the ceiling” sequence in Royal Wedding. And an exhilaratingly physical number in a scrap-metal yard, starring Efron and fellow basketball star Chad (Corbin Bleu), has something of the virile physicality of Gene Kelly, a nod to the macho swagger of Greaseand a touch of contemporary street dance for good measure.

The film follows on in a tradition that started out with Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney and continued with the kids from Fame: the impromptu musical theatre genre in which life lessons are learnt on the way to a big song-and-dance finale. And if the doe-eyed, soulful and slightly wet Efron is the Garland in this equation, then it’s up to Ashley Tisdale as the über-bitch Sharpay to provide the comic light relief, which she does with good humour and great timing.

It’s as shiny and polished as newly fitted dental veneers and, like most Disney products, the film is relentlessly family-friendly. As such it’s somewhat removed from reality. On the roof of the school building is a mini-Eden of pot plants and pergolas; on the roof of most schools near me you’ll find cigarette butts and dead rats. The HSM world is a place where a teenage boy can prance around wearing riding boots and floral jodhpurs without raising an eyebrow; where jocks, geeks and swots coexist as one big, happy family. But there are worse things a kid can take away from a movie than a message of acceptance and tolerance.

U, 111 minutes

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