Dancer is documentary filmmaker Steven Cantor’s journey into the high pressure world of ballet through one of its most conflicted yet talented dancers, Sergei Polunin.
Beautifully filmed, contentiously edited, Dancer follows Polunin from childhood through 2016 as his parents struggle for funds to allow him to study dance in Ukraine, his transition to London after acceptance to The Royal Ballet School of Dance, his rocketing ascension to the role of principal dancer and his struggles to find himself in the midst of his journey.
Dance Documentary Filmmaker, or Documentary Filmmaker of Dance?
Steven Cantor is a masterful filmmaker and this project can be considered against the backdrop of his other projects, such standout films as Devil’s Playground, What Remains, and James Blunt: A Return to Kosovo, as well as Ballet Now, recently written about on this site.
In Devil’s Playground, directed by Lucy Walker and produced by Cantor’s Stick Figure Productions, which follows Amish teenagers as they push the boundaries, drive cars and experiment with sex and drugs in their teen years prior to making a decision to follow the Amish traditions in a period called “rumspringa,” or ‘running around’ in English, the story explores individuals in crisis and transition that are changed by something pivotal in their youth, a theme carried out through many Cantor projects. Other themes that repeat in projects Cantor has been a part of are stories about artists. What Remains follows Sally Mann as she comes to grips with the impact of her life’s photographic works. A Return to Kosovo follows singer James Blunt as he visits areas he worked during a United Nations peacekeeping mission which impacted him deeply, shaping the kinds of songs he creates.
Dancer has all of these elements: an incredible performer at the top of his game who struggled with anxiety and depression after his family gave everything to help him succeed who acted out, exploring drugs, going against the tradition of ballet by getting tattoos and partying at clubs like a rock star.
Does Ballet Tend Toward the Authoritarian?
There is a reference that could have been made more overtly in the film. There is a scene of Polunin dancing the role of Apollo, painted head to toe in gold, with sun rays beaming from his head, just after being promoted from soloist to principal dancer. The question is asked, could he be the new Nureyev? It might be more appropriate to ask if he’s the new Louis XIV, pictured in the featured image to this article.
Louis XIV, the French monarch, ruled from 1643 until 1715 and as a major patron of dance and the arts, codified many of the conventions that carry on to this day ballet, including the development of the proscenium theater. Rather than participant/observers watching dance from the sidelines, it was at the Palace of Versailles that Louis XIV was the primary star and patron of the form, enacting the role of the sun god himself and challenging courtiers to compare themselves to him.
Polunin isn’t shy about his adherence to authority. His mother comments in the film that she was glad when he found a leading influence in Igor Zelenski after Poulinin broke with The Royal Ballet because he responded to an authoritative father figure.
Since the documentary, Polunin made seemingly shocking statements about his admiration for Russian president Vladimir Putin and his Donald Trump, support for strikingly gendered male and female roles as well as mocking statements toward overweight people for lacking discipline. He even paid a tattoo artist to ink Putin’s visage on his chest. How could an artist make these comments and alter his body to celebrate a person known for his power mongering and unjust leadership? Aren’t the arts inherently liberalizing in application? Didn’t dance support gay rights long before the mainstream? It may have, but the ballet is also extremely hierarchical, and the liberalizing function of the arts may be there not so much when one’s art is about the perfection of form, technique, endurance and unreachable ideals.
Poulunin simultaneously criticizes and beats himself down for not being better, being perfect and lashes out at others – his parents, the Royal Ballet – for “trapping” him in dance and restricting his freedom as an artist. It’s in this conflict that the bad boy of ballet becomes humanized. He lashes out, yet puts the burden on himself. He pushes himself to perform at the top of his game, yet feels inadequate at the same time he receives standing ovations.
In this regard, he is an outlier. Most dancers find a balance between their discipline – their intrinsic and extrinsic motivations – and also in their role within society. The documentary is less about dance and more about how a conflicted individual under high pressure struggles to shape a life in the context of dance. Dancer stands out in a field of documentary films that are truly much more about what people do to dance and less about how people negotiate themselves and others through and with dance.
Watching these films is an important part of my process as I go about creating my documentary dance film “Where Dances Come From.” As I work on the project it’s important not just to film the dancers in front of me but to ask the questions that get to the heart of the question, where do dances come from and why do people participate in this embodied form of art? Learn more about the project and consider a donation to support the project at my GoFundMe.