Nijinsky Blu-ray Review
Crazy about ballet.
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, March 2, 2012
A recent online poll asked film lovers to vote for their favorite film that centered on the world of dance or ballet. In what
will probably be a shocking result to those who lionize the iconic pairing of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger,
The Red Shoes did
not win the poll—not by a long shot. Perhaps because it's considerably more
contemporary and in a way more "accessible" than the somewhat high minded
The Red Shoes, Herbert Ross'
well-remembered 1977
The Turning Point took first place in the poll by a rather large margin. Ross had a long
and varied career that first flowered on the stage, where he was both an actor and dancer, eventually moving into the
world of choreography where he first attracted real attention. While he dabbled in film (he worked—uncredited—on the
film version of
Carmen Jones and did two Cliff Richards musicals some years later), his "big break" in terms of
American recognition came in 1968 when he choreographed and worked on the musical sequences of the film version of
Funny Girl with a certain Barbra Streisand (Ross had choregraphed
Babs' big "breakthrough"
performance, that of Miss Marmelstein in the Harold Rome Broadway musical
I Can Get it For You Wholesale,
which starred one Elliott Gould). The next year he finally helmed his first picture, the disastrous flop musical version of
Goodbye, Mr. Chips starring Peter O'Toole and Petula Clark, a film that helped vigorously pound one of the final
nails into the coffin of the big budget "event" musical in Hollywood. (The film is actually quite enjoyable seen now with
the advantage of perspective, and it features a superb performance by O'Toole. The multi-disc CD release of its
soundtrack, featuring Oscar nominated work by John Williams, by Film Score Monthly is
highly recommended if
you can find a copy.)
Ross followed up
Goodbye, Mr. Chips with a rather amazingly diverse group of films, including a couple more
starring Ms. Streisand (
The Owl and the Pussycat and the
Funny Girl sequel
Funny Lady), as well
as one of the smartest comedy thrillers of the early seventies, the Stephen Sondheim-Anthony Perkins penned
The
Last of Sheila (if you've never seen this film, it's a must-see for murder mystery lovers). It wasn't until 1977,
though, that Ross finally revisited the world of dance that had helped forge his early career, and
The Turning
Point was one of his standout success stories, earning him his only Best Director Academy Award nomination.
Three years later, once again collaborating with his ballerina wife Nora Kaye, Ross went back to the world of dance for
Nijinsky, a somewhat staid yet strangely sensational (at least in its day) portrayal of the legendary Russian
dancer who was forever associated with the work of Sergei Diaghilev.
Nijinsky didn't even place in the online poll mentioned above, and it's not hard to understand why. Despite
obviously having been a
labor of love for Ross and Kaye, this film is one of those biographical dramas that looks and sounds great but has
absolutely nothing with
which to connect on a heart level. What's so odd about
Nijinsky is how it flirts with supposedly scandalously
sexual behavior—
Nijinsky's
homosexual affair with Diaghilev is a major plot point—without ever raising the cinematic temperature even one degree.
This might be
simply
due to the fact that in 1980 the filmmakers just couldn't effectively portray a gay love affair, but even so, the film is
awfully stuffy, with none
of
the passion it really needed to have in order to rise above turgid melodrama. (As it stands, the film received a frankly ill
fitting R rating,
probably due to a couple of lip kisses between Diaghilev and Nijinsky. It's also interesting to note how Ross emulates,
if not outright apes,
that "other" quasi-gay themed film of just a few years prior,
Death in Venice, with Bates looking suspiciously like
Dirk Bogarde in a
white suit and
wide brimmed hat whilst lounging on the beaches of Italy. Ironically,
Death in Venice received a PG rating,
despite being at least as
supposedly provocative.)
American Ballet Theater star soloist George De La Pena had his first starring film role as Nijinsky, and while his dance
sequences are
stupendously effective, his performance chops aren't able to keep up with the film's
real star, Alan Bates, giving
a nicely understated
if just slightly smarmy performance as impresario Sergei Diaghilev. The film actually starts with Nijinsky locked away in
an institution (the
dancer would spend most of his life institutionalized after a devastating series of breakdowns), and then drifts into the
familiar biographic
film trope of a flashback to divulge how he ended up there. Ross and screenwriter Hugh Wheeler (who wrote the book
for the lovely
Stephen Sondheim musicalization of Bergman's
Smiles of a Summer Night, A Little Night Music) simply give us a
chronological account
of Nijinsky's glory years with Ballets Russes, replete with little establishing shots and subtitles letting us know where
we are and what
month and year it is. This therefore becomes almost more of a calendar or datebook rather than a drama with some
sort of emotional arc.
Jeremy Irons also made his film debut in
Nijinsky, playing choreographer Mikhail Fokine as an uptight little brat
who throws vicious
tantrums when he doesn't get his way. Ross' goddaughter Leslie Browne, who made such an impact (and received an
Academy Award
nomination) in
The Turning Point, is here cast as a scheming woman out to land Nijinsky as her own (and who
later marries him), and
she is one of the film's fatal
flaws. She simply doesn't have the dramatic
gravitas to pull off this role, and that leaves one of the film's
central tenets—that
Nijinsky's internal conflict between his heterosexual and homosexual leanings led to his breakdown—strangely lopsided
and ineffective.
The film is nonetheless extremely handsome and some of its historical recreations are very effective, including the
wonderfully disastrous
premiere of Stravinsky's
Le Sacre du Printemps, replete with Nijinsky frantically standing in the wings screaming
out the beats of
each measure to his dancers while the audience riots in the hall. In fact, it's probably the historical recreations of some
of these iconic
dances that remains
Nijinsky's overall strongest selling point. For a man who reinvented the world of modern
ballet in his own
image, perhaps that's more than fitting.