In Mike Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck, one scene rises above the rest — a dazzling five-and-a-half-minute dance sequence performed by Tom Hiddleston and Annalise Basso. Touted by the director as the “crown jewel” of the film, this moment encapsulates the movie’s message of joy, mortality, and spontaneity — all while capturing a side of Hiddleston audiences have never seen before.
The unexpected soul of the film
When audiences sit down to watch The Life of Chuck, adapted from a short story by Stephen King, few could anticipate that one of its most profound emotional beats would come not from dialogue, but from a dance. Set midway through the film, the scene sees Charles “Chuck” Krantz, played by Tom Hiddleston, suddenly overtaken by a street drummer’s rhythm while traveling for a work conference. As music swells and strangers gather, Chuck begins to dance — joyfully, confidently — before inviting a woman passing by, portrayed by Annalise Basso, to join him. What unfolds is five and a half minutes of pure cinematic magic.
Director Mike Flanagan was crystal clear on the importance of the moment: “The dance sequence, to me, was the crown jewel of the film. And if that didn’t work, the movie would not work.” For a film centered on fleeting moments and finding beauty in everyday life, the dance needed to be more than choreography — it needed to feel like a soul opening itself to the world.
Casting with chemistry — and hidden talents
Finding the right partner to match Hiddleston’s emotional and physical expression was essential. Flanagan returned to a familiar face: Annalise Basso, who had starred in his debut feature Oculus. Unbeknownst to him, Basso had been dancing since the age of three. Their lunch meeting, meant to catch up, quickly turned into something more.
“We had this really profound conversation just about where I’m at in my life, what I want for my career,” Basso recalls. “And he, as Mike does, just provided this incredible opportunity to follow joy, and I think that’s what this movie is really about.”
To bring that joy to life, Emmy-winning choreographer Mandy Moore (La La Land, So You Think You Can Dance) and drummer Taylor Gordon, also known as the Pocket Queen, were brought in to construct a sequence that evolved through styles and rhythms. Hiddleston describes the resulting track as “ingenious,” weaving through jazz, swing, cha-cha, bossa nova, and polka — each dance style a nod to Chuck’s childhood, where he learned to dance in the kitchen with his grandmother.
A choreography built from chaos
But building such a complex sequence wasn’t without its challenges. At first, Moore and Gordon traded notes remotely, trying to align choreography with the rhythm of a yet-to-be-finished drum track. Eventually, Moore insisted on a more organic solution: “Can we just get Taylor in the room with us with the music team?” she asked. The result was a collaborative, on-the-fly music and dance creation process that proved to be one of the most exhilarating of her career.
“Tom was in London learning the things from the video,” Moore explains, as the dance team, music crew, and Basso worked across continents. Videos flew back and forth, each side adjusting their movements and timing. The process was unorthodox, but thrilling. “I haven’t made a track with the people in the space for the camera,” says Moore. “That was a next-level thing.”
By the time they all came together in Mobile, Alabama, for filming, they had just four days on set after one week of rehearsals in a local strip mall dance studio. Hiddleston danced until the soles of his shoes wore through. “I definitely felt there’s a moment when we did it for four days… where it gave me lasting and eternal respect for dancers and their elite athleticism,” he says.
Joy as resistance
Despite the exhaustion, everyone involved describes the experience as joyful — a fitting tone for a scene designed to celebrate life’s fleeting wonders. “What I love about this scene,” Flanagan explains, “is that it depicts someone who stops in the middle of that and creates a moment of pure joy without any fear of judgment.”
The message resonates beyond the screen. Flanagan says the dance became a metaphor for what the entire film — and perhaps even life — is about: taking the opportunity to create joy when you can. “In Chuck’s case, it’s dance, but it could be piano, it could be painting, it could be cooking, it could be writing. We only have so many moments… So when you’re given an opportunity like that, seize it.”
For Hiddleston, it was also a transformative experience as a performer. Known for more cerebral, intense roles, this sequence demanded vulnerability and abandon — and a connection to movement most actors rarely get to explore. “It’s a moment of freedom,” he reflects. “And I think the audience feels that.”
A dance we all recognize
In the end, the five-and-a-half-minute sequence isn’t just a standout moment in The Life of Chuck — it’s the film’s emotional heartbeat. It’s the kind of scene that lingers with you, not because of its technical brilliance (though that is evident), but because of how deeply it taps into something universal: the human need for joy, even — or especially — in the face of loss.
And maybe that’s the point. As Flanagan says, “We never know how many moments we have. So why not dance?”