Etoile

It says so much about 'Swan Lake' that the ballet has appeared again and again in films that in any way revolve around the art form; save perhaps for the association of 'The Nutcracker' with Christmas, any average person who knows nothing else about dance is more likely to have heard about 'Swan Lake' than any other ballet. The choreography, score, and story are all legendary. Similarly, even when a specific work isn't being adapted or represented, cinema shows us again and again the enduring power of theater as countless films and TV shows have been set in and around the large complexes housing opera, dance, orchestral performances, and more. In all such regards and every which way, there's something both impressive and imposing about the architecture and the art that makes them perfect for the big screen. And so we have 'Etoile,' also known simply as 'Ballet,' with all this serving as perfect set-up for a tale of a young dancer and the strange goings on at a ballet school in Hungary. There's almost nothing about this picture that isn't altogether enchanting, and in some cases quietly unnerving. I think this is fantastic, and well worth exploring, and more than that - at the outset I was prepared to say it's not perfect, but now I'm inclined to think that gut reaction was sorely mistaken.

Substantial, meticulous care was clearly poured into every small facet of this feature, most of it geared toward successfully inculcating an uneasy, fanciful atmosphere - mystery, fantasy, thriller, even horror. Jürgen Knieper's original music alone does much to lend to that eeriness, bewitching yet disquieting themes that sound like something right out of a dark dream. Acácio de Almeida's cinematography is wonderfully fluid and mindful; along with very particular shot composition and use of lighting, the sense is only ever heightened of unnatural happenings, and more than that, it's as if our very presence as a spectator were an uninvited intrusion. This is to say nothing of Peter Del Monte's exceptional direction, orchestrating scenes with vibrant finesse; Giuseppe Crisolini Malatesta costume design, and the work of the hair and makeup artists, enriching the gloomy tale with fabulous, fetching small detail; the very filming locations, and the production design and art direction that dress them up, are simply beautiful. Zarko Prebil's choreography is exquisite, and so too are the performances of all on hand. By this point in her young career Jennifer Connelly was already making waves, and she again demonstrates why with a pointedly airy, spellbound and spellbinding display of tremendous subtlety and poise. Not to be outdone, even when they're not in a scene Laurent Terzieff and Olimpia Carlisi loom in the background like grim shadows, and their hushed presence is magnificent. Given roles of considerably more heightened emotions, it rather seems at times as though Gary McCleery and Charles Durning are overacting by comparison, yet there's a vitality in their performances that's just as great and essential to the weaving of this story. And it must be said: kudos as well to Raffaella Renzi, the dazzling dancer who stood in for Connelly as scenes required.

And that story! True, 'Etoile' is familiar in some capacity; in this moment I can't conjure a specific example, but the core of the narrative is something we've definitely seen before. One might also note that the climax is resolved a little too neatly, with the ending coming a bit abruptly - though in fairness, I think this is quite in keeping with the sensibility of a fairy tale that follows from the very essence of 'Swan Lake,' so I can forgive the ease thusly. Otherwise, I'd be lying if I said I weren't completely smitten with the story and screenplay whipped up between Del Monte, Sandro Petraglia, and Franco Ferrini. The plot at large is terrific, deeply absorbing and more sinister than it seems at first blush; it takes a little bit to begin to truly come together, but once it does, it's splendidly compelling. I love the characters, and the dialogue seems to roll out so smoothly. The scene writing, above all, feels especially painstaking, as though each moment and movement were precisely calculated and brought to life with fastidious attentiveness on the screen in a fashion that nevertheless comes off as totally natural. To that point: there's less dialogue in the feature than one may be accustomed to in broad terms, and that seems like a very deliberate for a title that relies quite strongly on visual storytelling. This could almost be rendered as a silent film, with only Knieper's score or Tchaikovsky's in the soundtrack, and it would have much the same effect from start to finish. With that in mind, both in its writing and execution there's bountiful detail filling every scene, and much to take in at every turn. Ultimately, even if there is a tinge of familiarity in the narrative, the contributions of all on hand give it a stupendous polish that well outpaces any comparison.

I'm a little taken aback that I haven't come across this until now. Of course there are many reasons why I haven't, yet I find the whole experience marvelous and captivating from top to bottom; not least with someone of Connelly's caliber and fame starring, I find it curious the movie isn't talked about more. In every respect - writing, direction, acting, unsung craftsmanship behind the scenes - I think this feature is outright superb; it is, after all, perfect. Anything that initially comes across as a slight weakness is smoothed over and at length seems to be rolled into the grand vision of the title. More than that, rarely have I found myself so enthralled by a picture as I was here as the plot thickened. I can appreciate that personal preferences vary, and this won't appeal equally to all comers, but all I can say is that for my part this is one of the most roundly rich, satisfying, mesmerizing features that I've watched in a while. Frankly, I think I'd call this a must-see: suggested most for those who admire ballet generally, 'Swan Lake' specifically, or are fans of Jennifer Connelly, I believe this would hold prime fascination for most. I, for one, love 'Etoile,' and it earns my heartiest, highest, enthusiastic recommendation!

Thanks to a poor script and the woeful direction of Peter Del Monte, ETOILE was a flop in 1988, never released (to this day) in the U.S. despite being filmed in English with American leading actors. Suddenly it takes on new interest as a direct forerunner of the current hit BLACK SWAN.

Jennifer Connelly, who gives a glazed performance especially compared with the all-stops-out tour de force of Natalie Portman, plays an American ballerina named Claire traveling to Budapest to further her career. She is possessed by the spirit of a ballerina from 1891 who danced her final performance there in "Swan Lake".

A chilling early scene has Claire receiving a bouquet of black flowers with a note: "Welcome back Natalie". This refers to the 1891 ballerina named Natalie Horvath, but today gives off an eerie note with the coincidence of actress Portman's first name some 22 years later in such a similar role.

Both films deal with loss of identity, but ETOILE adopts a very cornball Gothic romance style which falls flat. In fact everything about the film is flat except Connelly's torso (see her in CAREER OPPORTUNITIES made a couple of years later and you'll see what I mean). The romantic male lead Gary McCleery (whose career went nowhere) is terrible - a blank space on the screen, and an endless subplot concerning his uncle, played hammily by Charles Durning, obsessed with buying rare clocks, merely kills time.

The ballet master was well-cast with Laurent Terzieff, a wonderful, creepy looking French actor, better casting than Vincent Cassel in the new film, but unfortunately Terzieff has little to do. Similarly, scarily beautiful Olimpia Carlisi is wasted as an evil black queen figure.

In the '80s I watched all of Del Monte's films that were in fact imported to America -watching them in 35mm I can give a fair appraisal. SWEET PEA was merely cute, I greatly enjoyed INVITATION AU VOYAGE (which was an art-house flop here when released by Columbia's Triumph Films subsidiary), and JULIA & JULIA was a disaster, a millstone on Kathleen Turner's otherwise booming career at the time. With ETOILE Del Monte comes off as just another hack.

This has been getting a belated reputation (I admit to being totally unfamiliar with it prior to a recommendation from a Maltese friend of mine last week!) as a sort of dry-run for one of last year's most acclaimed films, BLACK SWAN. In fact, it similarly deals with a young and beautiful ballerina whose life is inextricably altered when she applies for the starring role of the famous Tchaikovsky opus "Swan Lake" (though here everything eventually works its way to a happy ending).

While it does not go into the psychological avenues taken by Darren Aronofsky's recent effort, the film nonetheless plays out like a Kafkaesque thriller – with the two protagonists (the hero is a likable fellow American who happens to stay on the same floor of her Budapest hotel) sucked in by a vortex of surreal events that literally transcends the passage of time! If anything, ETOILE also recalls Hitchcock's VERTIGO (1958) in equal measures, as ageing and crippled impresario/dancer(!) Laurent Terzieff moulds leading lady Jennifer Connelly (still in her Euro-fantasy phase that had kicked off with Dario Argento's typically elaborate PHENOMENA [1984] and also comprised Jim Henson's kiddie film LABYRINTH [1986]) into a prima ballerina from a past age who had perished tragically after a performance. Interestingly, 17 year-old Connelly – though she is meant to be spell-bound and, thus, also unable to recognize the young man – slips into the intricacies of her dual role much more easily than Natalie Portman in BLACK SWAN!

A dilapidated country-house also plays a central part in the 're-enactment' – where the male lead (whose life had until then been controlled by art-collecting uncle Charles Durning, who is himself mysteriously hypnotized at one point, gets violent towards his relative and hit by a passing car!) eventually goes to meet the evil head-on just as the Tchaikovsky ballet is being played out on stage. He has to fight with a giant black swan which, when he kills, Terzieff falls dead in mid-performance elsewhere! In the end, while hardly a lost classic, this is a reasonably interesting (and stylish) effort, regardless of the BLACK SWAN connotations which will probably be attributed to it from here on in

There is a charm to this enterprise, though you must be willing to go for the journey, rather than pick holes. If you're here to see a younger Jennifer in action you will not be disappointed. I would view as a great companion piece to Phenomena, another Italian product in which she also shines. Romance, ballet, mysterious locations and people, it has them all, but it still lacks that final something that elevates a performance to the heights. A delightful curio rather than an essential watch.

Honestly, I don't care about the plot-I just want to get lost in Jennifer Connelly's deep, soulful eyes and catch that little flash of her pointed canine teeth when she smiles. That's all I need; everything else is just icing on the cake. I absolutely love this movie-any chance they'll ever put out a 4K-restored Blu-ray edition? To me, it's a work of Italian beauty at its finest, second only to Phenomena (1985) and Once Upon a Time in America. It didn't make a bigger splash back then because of poor marketing, not poor quality. "I long to take Jennifer Connelly's hand and count the stars together."That's why I'm giving it twenty stars. Thanks!