NEW YORK - In a brief scene in 1983's "Flashdance," the Rock Steady Crew, with its backspins, windmills and freezes, almost diverted attention from Jennifer Beals.

It was a defining moment as the trio -- Normski, Mr. Freeze and Frosty Freeze -- introduced the world to b-boying on a piece of cardboard.

Flash forward to the 2005 International Battle of the Year in Europe. Breakdancing became a global phenomenon, drawing thousands to see crews from dozens of countries compete. Independent filmmaker Benson Lee explores the progression in his new documentary, "Planet B-Boy."

In the late 1990s, many people thought the dance form was "cheesy or passe" after fading from the spotlight in the United States. But Lee didn't.

"I was watching 'Flashdance' and saw that scene and was like, 'What happened to breakdancing?' " he said at the New York premiere of his film. "I got online and Googled it and discovered this whole world and that this event - called Battle of the Year - had been around since 1990."

Lee directed, co-produced and edited the 95-minute documentary, which took him a decade to make. The movie follows teams from South Korea, France, Japan and the United States preparing for an intense showdown in Braunschweig, Germany. It opens with a primer on hip hop culture, with cameos from Rock Steady Crew member Ken Swift and BOTY founder Thomas Hergenrother.

"To see how it has travelled from the Bronx all around the world is just mind-boggling," Lee said. "A lot of people don't know but this dance form help spread hip hop more effectively than the rap. I want people to have respect for these dancers. They're not just kids rolling around on the floor or just wasting time."

According to indieWire, the documentary for Elephant Eye Films debuted ahead of all art-house releases with a per-screen average in March of $13,889. It also won the Special Jury Prize at the IDFA Film Festival.

"Just watching the battles, it touched me so much 'cause I used to do that all the time," said Bronx native Kerian Marcinkus, 39. "That's how we fought, by breakdancing not fist-fighting."

Vicky Wight, of Elephant Eye Films, had a good feeling at the Tribeca Film Festival screening last year. "Some of the crews were there and it was really dynamic. They were all such lovely kids, the energy was so positive."

Lee doesn't breakdance now but he sported a fly pair of custom-designed Adidas and grey cap during his interview. It doesn't take long before the soft-spoken 38-year-old gets animated. "This is just something that gets my heart racing," he said. "I gotta move and it makes me feel something, makes me want to shout."

His first feature film, "Miss Monday," earned critical acclaim at the Sundance Film Festival in 1998. Lee didn't go to film school, though, and he had to fund his documentary privately. He did not disclose the cost.

"Everyone was like, 'Ah, breakdancing. OK, good luck. We're really interested . . . but go make it first,' " Lee recalled. "Until this day, we were raising money. It was like every corner we turned, there was something to body slam us in terms of some kind of problem with the film or a zero balance in our bank account."

As a teen growing up in a Philadelphia suburb, Lee saw "She's Gotta Have It," "Do the Right Thing," "Flashdance" and "Beat Street," which includes a "battle" between the Rock Steady Crew and New York City Breakers. He also recalls a Grandmaster Flash video on a program called "Dancing on Air."

"It was just something that completely floored me because I wasn't used to seeing something so beyond the mainstream of like what 'American Bandstand' was offering or even 'Soul Train' for that matter," Lee said. "Hip hop hit me hard in high school, but the dance especially. When I watched those movies, like millions of other kids around the world, I just tried it."

B-boying, or what would be later called breakdancing, stems from the socio-economic despair of shattered areas in the Bronx and Harlem in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Youth also expressed themselves through graffiti, rapping and DJ-ing. Dancers mimicked James Brown's footwork and Bruce Lee's martial arts. More inspiration came from innovators like DJ Kool Herc, Grandmaster Flash and Afrika Bambaataa.

The term b-boy refers to the way DJs would extend breaks in a record, giving dancers more time between beats. Now, urban dance fuses techniques and styles such as Brazilian capoeira, uprocking or top rock, footwork, house/lofting, popping, locking, voguing and wacking. And, yes, there are b-girls.

"They bring something completely different to it," Lee said. "It's not all about spinning on your head; it's not all just about these acrobatic moves. There's a fluidity, there's an elegance. . . . You'll see in my film there's a 66-year-old Swedish breaker named Crazy Grandma. When you see her, she's very inspiring."

New York dancer Vintaj Ultra Omni, 39, said today's hip hop misses the focus of what its intent back in the day.

"It was to stop the fighting, it was to bring unity and even though there was a lot of challenging and battling on the mike . . . it was all out of love," he said at a Lower East Side lounge. "Whether you do voguing or breakdance, you must respect it because it's all movement and it's all in accordance with the creator."

Dancer Michaelangelo Matos agreed.

"You'll catch a lot of the remaining real b-boys at the house scene," Matos said. "That's our last resort really. . . . It's the only place we have left to do it. . . . Nobody gives us the floor anymore. Every hip hop party in New York City now is more like a networking party."