THE COMPANY (2003)  ***1/2

Reviewed 1/7/03

Robert Altman’s marvelous look at Chicago’s Joffrey Ballet is nearly plotless and yet it is still filled with drama and wonderful little human touches – a girl twirling after launching a bowling ball, the snapping of an Achilles tendon during a dance demonstration, the dancers spoofing their higher-ups. Ry (Neve Campbell) is an up and coming dancer in a company under the command, some would say ruthless dominion, of abrasive director, Alberto Antonelli (Malcolm McDowell). We follow her dance progression through a season of performances and watch her fall in love with young chef, Josh (James Franco).

The impossibly offhand tone is an achievement of directorial mastery. Of course there is Altman’s famed overlapping dialogue, and he combines that with frequent cuts away from the speaker and many long and medium shots but virtually no close-ups. The whole thing simply feels like life passing in front of you without the usual manipulative foregrounding of action. “Feels like” are the key words because of course manipulation is still underway. Despite the film’s reflective distance, Altman still gets you to feel. One of the most remarkable scenes is Ry arriving home late to find Josh asleep, having cooked a succulent meal for them that still sits uneaten. It is a lover’s spat with nary a word spoken, told almost solely through context and body language.

THE COMPANY includes all kinds of behind-the-scenes shenanigans as dancers and staff fight over what dances to undertake, who is to be in them, and how best to perform them. One of Antonelli’s many fights highlight just how subjective the artistic process is while in another, he cowardly leaves to avoid conflict. All the discourses of reality disappear onstage and transform into beautiful abstractions of movement and grace. One of the most lovely performances involves a woman on a rope swing, her feet and skirt grazing the floor with each back and forth swing. The dance during the opening credits is so mesmerizing that you might forget the credits are even there.

For dance aficionados, the movie is a must, but even for those who don’t know a whit about modern dance, the movie says a lot about art and humanity in general.

SPOILERS: The ending, a dance of deliberate awfulness with the dancers now anonymously submerged beneath ridiculous costumes, is a brilliant spin on the expectations of the typical triumphal performance. The stage is littered with overpowering stage design and special effects, a symbol of flash over substance, perhaps Altman’s commentary of overriding commerce in art. And yet, the audience eats it up, and the dancers maintain their professionalism and camaraderie. Life goes on.