Ballets Russes

This wonderful documentary is a joy and a treasure, particularly for ballet fans, but also full of enjoyment for anyone with any interest in humans or art. It is a blessing that Geller and Goldfine happened upon this subject when they did, and decided to take it up. They have done a beautiful job of putting together with style, what was just a fraction of all the material they amassed, including interviews, current and archival footage, photos and excerpts from movies. Hunting down, choosing, eliminating and organizing into coherence all of this must have been an overwhelming task, and they have done it magnificently. The editing and the accompanying music also help to raise this documentary far above the level of most movies of that genre.

It is evident that the filmmakers fell in love with their many subjects and their stories. For anyone who has spent much time around some of these artists, that is not at all surprising, and they make us fall for them too. These dancers represent precious links with some of the richest of our artistic history; while their awareness of that and of the responsibility and gifts given them is eloquently expressed, they also show themselves to be very real, down-to-earth, fun-loving people--witty, too. We can't help but feel deeply for, and enjoy the hell out of them.

Certainly, even staying strictly within the very particular bounds of their subject, there was so much more one might have wished to have included here--this is such rich, juicy terrain. But time constraints would never allow the movie to cover anywhere near all the fascinating material that could have been included. Some important dancers mentioned either only briefly or not at all include Igor Youskevitch, George Skibine, Vera Zorina, Alicia Alonso, Sono Osato, André Eglevsky, Nana Gollner (aka Nina Golovina), Mary Ellen Moylan and Leon Danielian, among others. I would also have enjoyed a mention, and perhaps a photo or film clip, of Cyd Charisse during her time with the Ballets Russes; she used the stage name Felia Siderova (or Sidorova--research hasn't cleared up for me which spelling is correct).

There are also small mentions that should have been made, and could have without much trouble or time. Some of these include: upon mention of the Markova-Dolin Ballet company, a quick mention of Anton Dolin, and his importance; identifying Serge Lifar in a clip in which he playfully partners Tamara Toumanova outdoors on a lawn; even a brief account of the ultimate fate of founding director René Blum, who left the company to return to Europe, as stated in the movie, but who was tortured and killed by the Nazis. There also were still other companies that used the "Ballets Russes" moniker, and were part of the milieu this movie examines. In spite of things and people not in it, though, BALLETS RUSSES is glorious, and essential viewing.

In the end, no movie can be all things to all viewers, especially when focusing on a specialized slice of life and art. The comment here by gelman@attglobal.net (note: that somewhat negative review has now been taken down by its author, and replaced by a more recent and much more positive one) complains that this film does not follow Balanchine very much outside of his Ballets Russes work, and claims that "there is precious little about the major figures in American ballet and no attempt to explain how American ballet developed from the base provided by the Ballets Russes." I would argue that some of the people in this movie are indeed major figures in American ballet, but that isn't even the point. This movie deals lovingly with a particular, limited (though glorious) slice of cultural history; it is not meant to be a comprehensive history of ballet's development in America, even within the limited time frame it covers. There were certainly other important things happening in American dance concurrently to this movie's events, and I would love to see a movie or movies about them. Those are not the focus of this movie, and not the stories this movie sets out to tell. BALLETS RUSSES keeps its focus and tells its stories lovingly, glitteringly and touchingly. It is not to be missed! Deep thanks to Geller and Goldfine for a great, essential piece of history.

I walked into this film knowing very little about the history of ballet in the 20th century, and though those more knowledgeable than I may quibble with facts or omissions, I can't imagine anybody who loves dance, music, or human beings walking away from this film unsatisfied.

Much of the archival footage is thrilling to watch--much of it, to be honest, is also a little bland and hard to distinguish. Nonetheless, the film as a whole is very well edited and makes wonderful use of music. Its true glory rests, however, in the beautiful, opinionated, eccentric personalities that emerge, personalities so vibrant and colorful even at 80, 90 years of age that they make the living people around one (God forgive me for saying this) seem like tattered scraps of ashen cardboard. Dance must be some kind of fountain of youth. That so many of the people central to the history of these two companies should not only still be alive, but also be SO ALIVE, is nothing short of miraculous.

The film half-heartedly tries to end on a note of hope for the future of ballet, but let's not kid ourselves: this is an elegy for an art-form that will never again be quite what it once was. And actually, the film is all the more poignant for that. A beautiful and unforgettable film.

I went to this film with only a minimal understanding of the significance of the individuals portrayed. What an absolutely beguiling and totally enjoyable experience. It was great to see the archival footage of some of these amazing performers as well as the recent interviews and the reunion. The egos and the incredible stamina that they must have had certainly allowed them to persist through real adversity. A totally enjoyable experience and a jewel of a documentary. It would have been great to have more advance publicity but it was actually a treat to discover the film by accident and become totally engrossed in the era and the huge personalities, some of whom are still alive in 2005. Bravo!

I was mesmerized and enthralled by this 2 hour film. I wanted it to just go on and on. What a fabulous look into the beginnings of modern ballet of the 20th century. The archival footage was remarkable. The interviews with the aged dancers were priceless. If this film had not been made now, this fabulous history would have been lost to us forever. Many of the dancers appearing in this film have since passed away. If you love the ballet you MUST see this film! If you know someone who loves the ballet, urge them to see this film. They will be forever grateful to you. I can't wait until Ballets Russes comes out on DVD so I can add it to my library.

I haven't enjoyed a movie this much in years.

One filmmaking challenge I have been puzzling over for years is how to film dance. It is not enough to have a camera placed in a stationary place as if sitting in a theater looking at a stage. When I am at a physical performance, the contract forces me to be stationary, but I have the advantage of the surrounding space and shared breath in darkness, each our own darkness. But the camera can dance, and I find myself wishing to be in the flow. Some filmmakers do well with this immersion (often with choreographed fights). But none reaches the level that I turn fanatical and encourage you to share.

Another troubling film problem for me has to do with film documentaries. I know how to engage with a narrative when the contract is between me, the filmmaker and our collaborators. We can sail. But that contract gets muddled when there is a presumption that the contract and the presented reality are separated. Nominally, we presume film journalism where the filmmaker's craft is to disappear. Alternatively, we can have filmed history where the filmmaker's craft is applied to sharpening focus, interpreting the story rather than telling. Oh, so many documentaries frustrate because you cannot make that contract with the filmmaker that you need to allow the power of the medium to entangle you.

But here is a solution to both of those dilemmas. Superficially the purpose of this is to give us a history of a dance company, the Ballet Russe. It is an important story, how 19 century mastery in ballet was expelled from Russia and found a home in Europe, and thence expelled to the US where it found a home and adapted. This in many ways is an essential story about movement, poise and the value of presence. It affects what we tap when we judge people. It is built into the way we make and see movies.

So it is an important contract, and one the filmmakers honor. But that is not what this film is. The construction is the normal one: the historical journalist as narrator, as much historical footage as possible and as many interviews as time allows with the people who were there, so they can report directly. But what happens is a strange inversion. Instead of the witnesses enriching the story, the story enriches the witnesses and we end up being completely captured by the people who talk to us.

They are in their eighties and nineties, these dancers. All have a vitality that beams into the room where you watch this. All have given countless performances and all of them can count artistic achievement that to me is nearly unfathomable. All of these! While I plow through movies looking for a few that matter, here are some collected lives of people who routinely mattered, working small and large stages across the country as Johnny Appleseeds planting seeds of grace.

It was hard for me to keep all the Russian names straight: we see a modern aged face telling us something from their memories, and then we see that same person fifty, sixty, seventy years before in the situation recalled. I think the filmmakers knew how their project had morphed because they give lots of screen time to these folks, including episodes that have nothing to do with elaborating the history. We simply see them carrying on dancers' lives as best their bodies allow, every one of them alert and insightful.

The DVD has lots of extras, and you will want to gobble them all up, but I wish we could have just seen these old folks walk more. Just walk.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.