The Company (2003)

I suppose you can call this splendid movie a documentary showing several months in the life of the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago. However, as there are some dramatized elements (albeit to a minimum), you can't technically call it a documentary. And yet, it's more truthful than many "full" documentaries. Completely free from contamination of melodrama, the movie shows us, in a matter-of-fact manner, things behind the stage – dedication and sacrifices, lucky breaks that even the top talents sometimes need, experienced performers arguing anainst new ideas, injury and understudy stepping in at a moment's notice, disappointment from being fired, and much more.

Doing what he does best, master Altman gives you an inconspicuous spot in the rehearsal hall, in the meeting room, back stage, to show you how an idea evolves right from an artist's concept to a successful performance – the road that is sometimes painful, sometimes exhilarating and everything in between, the process that affects the lives of the people who are part of the whole. Overlapping dialogue here is not just Altman's artistic and technical trademark, but the way people REALLY speak. Through his amazing deployment of the camera, he also gives the audience a kaleidoscope of events and emotions that are fleeting and fluid, and yet remain with you long after the movie.

In addition to the insight of the documentary, dance lovers will enjoy the generous helping of dance scenes, particularly the outdoor performance in a thunder storm at the beginning. And although personal story is not the point of this movie, the depiction of the relationship between the characters played by Neve Campbell (the dancer) and James Franco (the chef) is wonderful. The scene of their first meeting is a joy to watch – she is playing pool by herself and really enjoying it while he, a drink in hand, regards her somewhat stoically at a distance. The two of them are depicted in so many angles, sometimes in the same frame, sometimes separately. This scene is so mesmerizing that you'll forget the passage of time. At long last, they make eye contact and smile. Then, a cut to the next morning in her apartment when they are just waking up, as he offers to cook breakfast for them. An absolutely beautiful sequence.

Campbell and Franco are simply wonderful. The icon of the movie, however, is artistic director of the company Alberto Antonelli , generally known as "Mr A", who comes off larger than life with the flare of Malcolm McDowell, who undoubted is remembered best from "A clockwork orange".

To people who have experienced the joy of stage performance, even in a very modest way of an amateur choir or theatre group, there is the bonus of additional empathy – the sometimes not so smooth rehearsals, the panic as the performance approaches and nothing seems to work, the last minute jitters before curtain, the final jubilation when everything miraculously falls into place and the sincere applause of the audience. Such empathy!

Fmovies: Robert Altman sets the stage and lets his players do what they do in his films. He's renown as one of the great directors to give actors freedom (he's probably in his own way as meticulous as Stanley Kubrick, only with far less takes), though one wonders if from time to time he does give his direction to an actor or to make sure they know what they're doing. But in his films, like with this Chicago dancing company presented in his 2003 film The Company, the people doing the work need to know what they're doing, and that's the key to getting process, since dance, like film, combines many elements (in terms of dance there's physical movement, there's acting and performance, there's emotion, there's music and lighting, and so on).

I imagine that's what drew Altman to the project (it was said it took some consideration before he accepted the job), that and perhaps a connection with the character Malcolm McDowell plays, Mr. Antonelli. He doesn't have much of a ego, but when he needs to (or just wants to) he'll put on airs. While some of the students may roast him eventually- there's a company Christmas party where he's ruthlessly but pleasantly mocked- they always take what he says seriously, since when he speaks one listens, even if it's a rambling speech about what the 1960's were like. He, like Altman, is in control even when he doesn't seem to be doing much. And how the stage is set, as we see, goes a long way for a fantastic dance set-piece, be it with thirty people in crazy costumes or a couple in very sensual poses.

The Company has not much plot to speak of- then again, Altman would probably rather get a root canal than worry about a plot- except that it's about a dance/ballet company putting on performances throughout a season, with some minor drama here and there, a small romance between a superstar in the group played by Neve Campbell and a chef played by James Franco (tender scenes but played for real, much like those in Thieves Like Us). But there are a few great scenes (and as Hawks would say, no bad ones), and one of them might be one of my favorite scenes, in terms of intentional (or not) artistic elements coming together, in any Altman film. There's a performance out at night in a park in front of hundreds. The first part goes reasonably well, with thunderstorm sounds in the background. Then Campbell and another dancer take the stage, and as the lovely string music swells, the lightning and thunder as well, and the rain falls and the crowd looks anxious but all the while wrapped up in the completely professional-breathtaking dancing on stage, with little dust and other things flying in the air. It's glorious.

How much that was on the spot for Altman, or if it was planned to just shoot in the impending storm (or, perhaps, if it's all just made up for the movie), it's a really wonderful set piece among many others that are more conventionally stage-bound and shot with multiple cameras. The assortment is nice to see (a song from David Lynch's Industrial Symphony #1 even comes up). But it's those little scenes between people, where Altman breaks down artifice (or adds to it seamlessly, like a dance itself) that The Company gains its strength. One of which is the first time Franco and Campbell meet eye to eye at a bar. Watch as Franco sits and watched her play pool. This could go any number of ways from creepy to erotic, but it's more playful and ambiguous than that. We see the aftermath of this scene in

The ballet sequences are probably the most breathtaking we've seen in a fiction film. Altman succeeds in putting ballet in the fore, instead of characters or story. This was his intention, and on this front he gets a 8/10. However, where there are not ballet scenes, there is a story: Neve Campbell wrote it. And she seems not to have seen any other romance movie since the dawn of time. Its just the kind of romance subplot a little girl WOULD write: with soft lighting, flickering candlelight, a beautiful boy who does nothing wrong, listens to your problems, sleeps with you, and lets you get on with your dancing. He appears when it is convenient for both Neve and Bob Altman to insert a romantic scene: and just as gimmicky a brushstroke as this, is his entrance always being marked by the same song, My Funny Valentine. It was nice how they had four different versions of the song, for different moods: the upbeat poolhall number for their meeting, the romantic one for the seduction, and a more melancholy one when she's missing him. Anyone who knows this song (most of us), feel how gimmicky a device this is when it arrives again.

So far is this from the dramatic conflict between love and dancing in Powell and Pressburger's The Red Shoes that we're almost barren of any narrative drive or dramatic conflict at all. That's my main problem with The Company - nothing goes wrong. Or when it does go wrong (raining on the night of a performance), it always serves to improve the moment for the protagonists: indeed it is an incredible scene, Neve dancing a duet with a Joffret dancer. A moving, beautiful dance. But that's precicely the problem: there is no problem!

Malcolm McDowell is no good. He gets a C-. He tries, but its so obvious throughout that he knows not a jot about ballet, and he just walks around play-acting at a ballet coach from the movies, while the real Joffret coaches tell the dancers what they need to know. And his calling everyone "babies" is a clumsy attempt to create character through a catchphrase.

6/10

Beautiful ballet scenes, A+ for putting the dancing centre-stage, so to speak (as opposed to the tawdry melodrama called Centre Stage). But all we've got to go on narrative-wise is a thin-as-a-ballet-ribbon romance subplot. If this wasn't there, actually, it might have been a very successful art movie - but its gimmicky presence is so clumsy its a fault.

The Company fmovies. The Company is the best ballet movie I have ever seen, and I have seen quite a few. Most ballet fans will tolerate a silly, self-conscious,infantile story just to see the dancing. There was nothing to endure, however, by watching The Company. The dancing was wonderful, refreshing, and, at times, hypnotically beautiful; for that alone I will purchase the DVD once it is released. The story, though, was a very pleasant surprise. The dancers were adults; they were stoical, determined, talented professionals. There was no whining melodrama, only dedication. There was no sordid, steamy sex scenes with subsequent sleazy betrayals, but sweet, sensual, real love. Even those in power were not the usual glamorous megalomaniacs; they were dedicated, passionate, and astute. It's been a long time since I have been so delighted with any movie, let alone a ballet movie. What a wonderful departure from the mundane, silly world that Hollywood generally makes of ballet.

Lets hope that Altman makes films for another 20 years and that he stays as adventuresome as he currently is.

In 'The Long Goodbye' Altman invented a rather new camera stance, literally asking the actors to improvise staging and having the camera discovering them.

It took a few decades for him to get back to such experiments with 'Gosford.' Now he takes it even further with perhaps the purest problem in film cinematography: how do you film dance?

Forget that this features Campbell in a vanity role: she is good enough and doesn't detract. Forget about any modicum of plot: there isn't any. And unlike 'Nashville' or the similarly selfreferential 'Player' there is no cynical commentary.

The commentary itself is selfreferential this time. Yes, this time the center of the film is how 'Mr A' orchestrates movement and images. This is most of all about himself, and is far, far more intelligent and subtle than say, 'Blowup.'

But along the way, you get possibly the best dance experience on film. That's because they've been able to use many cameras. There are not as many as 'Dancer in the Dark,' but each camera dances, engages with the dance and the dance of people and objects around the dance. So we get four layers of dance: the actual ballet, the orchestration of people around the production, the dancing cameras (enhanced by non-radical appearing radical editing) and the dance within the mind of Mr A who encourages, follows and captures them all.

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

First, I believe I have seen every dance movie ever made, but I can't ever remember one I enjoyed so much. I personally have been affiliated with the Dance world for most of my life. Not as a dancer but as a Stage Manager. The fact that Ms. Campbell and Mr. Altman allowed the audience to share most, if not all of the Ballets in their entirety was most enjoyable. The usage of High-Def allowed the audience to really feel as if they are there. I had the privilege of watching Ms. Campbell work on "Party of Five" while she was at Sony, where I have had continued employment for almost 10 years. I had great respect for her then as an Actress but have a entire new admirations for now as a dancer. I would love to see "The Company II"