The Umbrella Academy's dance sequences are its greatest legacy

After two years of anticipation, the fourth and final season of The Umbrella Academy hit Netflix on August 8 with no shortage of divisive storytelling moves—including an unexpected romance and a bold choice about where to leave the Hargreeves siblings. But perhaps the single most controversial decision isn’t something the show does but something it doesn’t. Somehow, there’s no big final Hargreeves sibling dance sequence to end the series. And for a show that was always most alive in its musical moments, that’s a pretty shocking omission.  

To be fair, there is a dance sequence in season four. It’s just given to new antagonists Drs. Gene (Nick Offerman) and Jean (Megan Mullally) Thibodeau, a married couple who are convinced that alternate universes exist and that they’re living in the wrong timeline. Befitting the tradition of weirdo Umbrella Academy villains, Gene and Jean unwind with an interpretive dance set to Cher’s “Gypsies, Tramps And Thieves.” But while it’s an enjoyably goofy scene, it’s a shame the last season couldn’t make time to let the Hargreeves themselves get in on the fun.

This is an especially odd choice considering it was a dance sequence that first helped the show find an audience. The Umbrella Academy launched with a pretty somber premiere back in 2019. Six estranged siblings riddled with childhood trauma (and superpowers) reunite after learning their adoptive father has died. They bicker, recall their darkest childhood memories, and start to self-isolate. Then older brother Luther (Tom Hopper) puts on Tiffany’s “I Think We’re Alone Now,” and the Hargreeves siblings find themselves each independently getting their grooves on in different rooms around the house. 

It’s a real make-or-break moment for the show—the place where viewers could decide if The Umbrella Academy’s caustic-yet-twee vibe was for them or not. And by and large, the gambit worked. While plenty of TV shows have deployed an ironically upbeat needle drop for a fight sequence (including The Umbrella Academy itself), an outright dance number is rarer. And the breakout moment helped The Umbrella Academy become the third most-watched Netflix show of the year. In fact, “I Think We’re Alone Now” is such a signature sequence for the show that the cast even recreated it as part of the season-two date announcement.

Beyond the pure charm of watching people dance, what makes the sequence so effective is how it rounds out our initial impressions of the sardonic lead characters. Based on the way they move to the music, we realize that Luther isn’t just a serious-minded team leader; he’s also a bit of a himbo. Allison (Emmy Raver-Lampman) still has a childlike side beneath her poised demeanor. And while Diego (David Castañeda) may act like a brooding vigilante, behind closed doors he’s just as goofy as his siblings. 

As the camera pulls back to present the Hargreeves manor as a dollhouse, the message is clear: The Hargreeves siblings think of themselves as loners who don’t need one another, but they’re far more in sync than they realize. It’s not a subtle metaphor (The Umbrella Academy isn’t a subtle show), but it encapsulates the sweet take on family dysfunction that’s earned the series its devoted fans. 

Even storylines that didn’t really work, like a romance between Luther and Allison (yes, they’re adoptive siblings…), almost work in dance form. The closest I ever came to rooting for those two is thanks to a fantasy sequence in the season-one episode “The Day That Wasn’t,” in which they imagine dancing to Toploader’s cover of “Dancing In The Moonlight.” The scene evokes old Hollywood like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers’ “Cheek To Cheek” in Top Hat or Tony and Maria meeting at the dance at the gym in West Side Story. And while the staging is a little simplistic, the dreamy sequence works because it captures the feeling of escaping the harsh real world for a lighter, more whimsical one (an idea that very much parallels the haunting creation of the song itself).  

Still, the show’s dances tended to work better for family scenes than ill-begotten romances. (The Umbrella Academy thankfully ditched the Luther/Allison throughline after its first season.) My personal favorite comes in season two, when the Hargreeves are teleported back to 1960s Dallas around the time of the JFK assassination. While the first season was about the Hargreeves physically reuniting but staying emotionally distant, season two flips the script: The siblings are scattered across time and space, but desperate to reunite with one another. And once they do, there’s joy all around. 

In the fifth episode, “Valhalla,” Allison, Viktor (Elliot Page), and Klaus (Robert Sheehan) find themselves lounging around a hair salon, venting about their love lives and leaning on each other for support. When Sam Cooke’s “Twisting The Night Away” comes on the radio, they decide to blow off some steam by dancing in what feels like an homage to the “We Are Not Alone” sequence in The Breakfast Club, another story of dysfunctional loners coming together as one.

It’s a nice example of how The Umbrella Academy evolved over the course of its run—revamping its central characters to play to the strengths of each actor and highlighting the natural chemistry of its ensemble. While the show always maintained a heavy dose of grim violence and dark comedy, it started to embrace a lighter, more whimsical side over the years too. Unlike in season one, where the Hargreeves could only be loose and carefree when they were alone, by season two their bond has grown to the point where they can be free and goofy together too.

In fact, the only reason I can think why season four didn’t continue the sibling-dance tradition is because the show’s creators were worried they couldn’t top the one they already did in season three: an elaborately choreographed take on Kenny Loggins’ “Footloose,” in which the Umbrella Academy square off against their alt-universe doubles, the Sparrow Academy. Unlike the earlier dance sequences, which worked as character moments, this one is a pure bit of fanservice. (It’s eventually revealed to be a dream caused by some hallucinogenic venom.) But three seasons in, the show had earned that right.

It’s by far the most intricately staged dance in the show’s run, which is even more impressive when you consider season three was written and filmed at the height of the pandemic. The cast learned the routine over Zoom before finally putting it together in pre-production. And while it doesn’t “need” to be there on a storytelling level, it works for a show that’s always prioritized vibes over plot. 

Indeed, vibes are very much the name of the game for seasons three and four, which are uneven and overstuffed in different ways. (Season four, in particular, feels hampered by having just six episodes instead of the usual 10.) But for me, at least, the imperfect show has enough highs to make the lows worth sitting through. At its worst, The Umbrella Academy felt like a pastiche of other, better off-kilter genre properties. But at its best, it delivered something distinctly original—a “hold my beer” one-upping of the music-filled family dysfunction of Guardians Of The Galaxy. While one more big season-four dance sequence would’ve been a nice capper, at least the show has an extensive catalog to remember it by.