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The Company 2003 |
Review by Jonathan Cornwell |
Directed by Robert Altman
PG-13, 102 min. (brief strong language, some nudity, sexuality) |
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Starring: Neve Campbell, Malcolm McDowell, James Franco, Susie Cusack, Barbara E. Robertson
Producers: Robert Altman, Joshua Astrachan, Neve Campbell, Pamela Koffler, David Levy, Christine Vachon
Screenplay: Barbara Turner
Cinematography: Andrew Dunn
Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
Released: 12.25.03 (Limited) |
Rating:
 (out of ) |
The Company has a brilliance in it that most mainstream moviegoers will either miss or simply not care enough about to
discover. Director Robert Altman's latest allegorical film focuses on the world of ballet, specifically the Joffret Ballet of Chicago,
where dancers work their feet to failure while trying to stay afloat financially (they don't make much from their love of dancing).
Altman gives us a fly-on-the-wall perspective of both the everyday struggles of the company and the lives of the dancers that
perform because they must. There are long sequences of ballet numbers that force the viewer to concentrate on the
demanding world of perfection that makes the art form one of the most difficult to master. There is not so much a plot as
there is key moments in the lives of those involved in the production itself; Altman communicates sublime parallels between
the development of ballet and the ever-growing lives of the dancers who make it happen. This may not be the most
entertaining of films, but it's certainly a work of art.
The rough outline of the story involves Alberto Antonelli's (Malcolm McDowell) ballet company, which, although respected,
is constantly aware of its budgetary restraints. His dancers include the budding talent Ry (Neve Campbell), who
develops a quiet rivalry with veteran dancer Harriet (Barbara E. Robertson), while juggling the demands of an emerging
love interest, in the form of a young chef, Josh (James Franco). Antonelli heaps praise on his dancers while remaining
aloof, causing consternation over his true feelings of their work, as he must deal with the barrage of daily interruptions
of running the company; he glides in and out of rehearsals, offering advice and salving egos, while discussing the upcoming
ballet entitled "The Blue Snake" with a bizarre choreographer. Meanwhile, Ry and Josh, after meeting and falling for each other quickly, attempt to
keep their fledgling relationship intact despite a series of lifestyle causing mishaps that begrudges their time together.
What The Company offers is a unique verisimilitude between the world of ballet and the cinema, which imparts the
sense of chaotic collaboration of those involved in the production who simply find a way to make the finished product
a reality. Altman uses Antonelli as the starting point for his comparative film, which parallels his own life to an extent -
the ability to bring actors and writers together while keeping a watchful eye on the monetary contraints of a small movie
budget. Indeed, although he has made some great films (MASH, Nashville, Gosford Park), many of his productions have
been limited by subject matter that doesn't necessarily appeal to the mainstream. Couple this approach with a jagged,
documentary-like style intended to portray life as it is in this small niche of people, and you have a highly experimental
ebb and flow that is so different from contemporary cinema that it eventually becomes an effective tool itself.
The relationship between Ry and Josh is an example of intelligent filmmaking. Instead of hammering home the clichéd
aspects of most film relationships, Altman and his screenwriter, Barbara Turner, give us glimpses of a home life that is
strained by the comings and goings of two people who are under the pressure of advancing careers. In one delicate scene
we see Ry return home late only to find Josh asleep on the couch, his painstakingly prepared meal sitting cold on the
dinner table. Or in the elegant scene where Josh first flirts with Ry in a billiard room of a bar as he sits inside a phone booth,
watching her through the glass as she strikes each ball confidently, returning his gaze intently. Altman gives us scenes like
this to show us the rough edges; we're supposed to fill in the blanks, instead of being force-fed the obligatory love scene.
There are also other scenes that portray the same sense of summary examination. One sees the harrowing response of
dancers and Antonelli as one of the featured dancers snaps her achilles tendon; they know her career is over, but they
must coolly detach themselves from the reality of the situation in order to move forward. And another which shows a
performance early on in the film that highlights the dancers' rigorous discipline in the face of a quickly developing storm;
the outdoor production provides the opportunity to show the waning popularity of the ballet as a quick glance into the
audience sees a not-so-packed crowd bracing for the weather. It's the small details that Altman revels in, and his films
are a study in how to make a relaxed, free-flowing film while keeping things in perspective.
The performances are not so much brilliant as they are efficient. Campbell gives herself completely to the film, doubling
as producer and actor, and her background in ballet lends a credibility to her effort that makes her perfect for the role.
And McDowell has a chance to showcase his zaniness, while Franco provides an outside perspective of the ballet in his dealings
with Campbell. The Company will be misunderstood and probably disliked by many who see it because of its
prodding manner, yet it's the insight and patience of Altman and company that makes the film a pleasure to watch.
© 2004 Jonathan Cornwell
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 | Masterpiece - Film perfection |
 | Excellent - A Must See |
| Good - Highly Recommended |
| Fair - Worth seeing |
| Average - Viewable, but not recommended |
| Below average - View at own risk |
| Poor - Avoid at all costs |
| Very poor - An embarassment to the film industry |
| Zero | Awful - One of the worst films ever made |
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