Ralph Fiennes & David Hare's excellent bio-pic of Rudolf Nureyev, THE WHITE CROW, opens

What a fine and fascinating entertainment, as well as one of the better bio-pics of recent times, is THE WHITE CROW -- the very welcome collaboration between director/co-star Ralph Fiennes, screenwriter David Hare, and the very impressive newcomer actor/dancer taking the title role, Oleg Ivenko, who plays the young adult Rudolf Nureyev.

What these three have given us is a portrait of Nureyev that seems nuanced, detailed and believable factually, psychologically and especially emotionally.

Fiennes (shown at right) and Hare go back and forth in time near constantly, and this works surprisingly well, TrustMovies thinks, because the pair concentrates less on connecting the specific what-happened-and-why dots than on the emotions these events raise in both the child and the young adult Nureyev. Thus we are consistently placed within both the heart and mind of the character, and this helps us understand the talented, gorgeous and highly self-centered man at the core of this film.

Mr. Ivenko, below, handles both the dance and the acting with aplomb. Perhaps Fiennes understood how to capture and make best use

of this young man's talents -- which in so many ways mirror those of Nureyev -- without asking him to do too much. In fact, Ivenko's is a paired-down performance -- he is most often shown simply "thinking" -- relying in good part of his handsome face, terrific body and dance skill to bring to life the international ballet idol of the 1960s and 70s. It works.

Aside from the childhood flashbacks, The White Crow concentrates on Nureyev's ballet training, particularly that under the tutelage of his chosen teacher, Pushkin (played with great restraint and a fine undercurrent by Fiennes, above, right), mixed consistently with his traveling in the Russian troupe to Paris, where he first became rightly famous.

There he meets and bonds with the young woman, Clara Saint (Adèle Exarchopoulos, above, right) and the French dancer/choreographer Pierre Lacotte (Raphaël Personnaz, below, right), both of whom prove instrumental in the Parisian life of our dancer, as well as in the choice he must finally make.

Thanks to the ever-invasive Russian officials assigned to chaperone/guard the dance troupe, our narcissistic hero champs harder at his bit until the exceedingly suspenseful climax of this first-rate film, which -- if the details of the finale are maybe not completely as-they-were -- can be forgiven because of the filmmakers' skillful handling of this scene.

Those of us old enough to remember and appreciate Nureyev's talent and beauty -- his famous bisexuality is clearly shown here, too -- will probably revel in how closely Ivenko achieves all this, while younger audiences will at least be given a good taste of what this dancer/icon was all about.

The movie's dance scenes (as above and below), though not so very many, are plenty good enough to convince us of why this then-unknown dancer rose so quickly and permanently to fame. Mr. Hare's screenplay, by the way, is so appropriate and smart that you are mostly unaware of it as the film rolls along.

From Sony Pictures Classics and running a rich and not-a-moment-too-long 127 minutes, The White Crow opened on the coasts last month and is now expanding nationwide. Here in South Florida, it begins its run this Friday, May 10, and will play the Miami area at the AMC Aventura 24, Regal's South Beach 18, and the Coral Gables Art Cinema; in Fort Lauderdale at the Classic Gateway 4; in Davie at the Cinemark Paradise 24; in Boynton Beach at the Cinemark 14; in Boca Raton at the Regal Shadowood and the Cinemark Palace; and at the Movies of Delray and the Movies of Lake Worth. Wherever you live across the country, click here and then click on GET TICKETS (badly designed but to be found hidden in Ivenko's forehead) to view the theaters nearest you.

Another dancer documentary, Elvira Lind's BOBBI JENE, opens in New York City

After Dancer, Restless Creature, A Ballerina's Tale, and a number of other dance-themed documentaries that TrustMovies has seen over the past few years, the newest example -- BOBBI JENE, directed by Elvira Lind -- arrives as an odd but not uninteresting addition to the genre. The movie of which it most reminds me, however, is not a documentary, but the highly detailed, psychologically astute narrative film, Polina. Interestingly, both movies are being released within a few weeks of each other via Oscilloscope Films.

Filmmaker Lind, shown at right, is clearly fascinated by Bobbi Jene Smith, an Iowa-born women who, more than a decade ago, left her home and family in the USA to go study and apprentice with Ohad Naharin, the director of Israel's famous Batsheva Dance Company, where she became one of the principal dancers and eventually a choreographer, too.

The film begins as Bobbi Jene has made the decision to leave Israel, return to the U.S. and pursue her own career as... well, it looked to me like a combination of dancer/ choreographer/ teacher. The movie details her journey toward all this, even as it gives equal time to her romantic life and sexual relationships, which involve a former connection to her teacher/mentor/lover Narahin, her current boyfriend Or Schraiber (also a dancer with Batsheva), and most bizarrely and importantly with a sack of something (flour, cement?) that she uses as a masturbatory device in her main performance piece that we see in great detail here.

Yes, Bobbi Jene, the movie and the woman (shown above, below, and on poster top), wants to be a ground-breaker and barrier-buster. And they are, to some extent, at least. But for all the shock and awe the "dancer" produces (audiences at her live performances we see do seem stunned and moved to see a nude woman reaching orgasm right in front of them), the movie itself consistently glides along the surface of things, telling and showing us what is happening without much probing.

Which raises the oft-asked question regarding certain documentaries: Would this tale have been better told as a narrative film? My answer is "yes." Because, though the characters we see are clearly "acting" for the camera (and doing an excellent job, too), this is hardly "real life." Some scenes, especially those between Bobbi Jene and Or, seem staged or at least re-created. A narrative movie might have allowed us to experience love making between the pair (rather than discretely cutting away as happens here) so we might compare what our heroine is getting from Or with what she gets from that sack she uses in her dance routine. (This may sound silly, but that sack gets the most sexual-partnering screen time of anything we see.)

Calling Bobbi Jene's routine "dance" is also a little iffy, I think. "Performance art" maybe, but I didn't see much dance here. Her act most reminded me of the work of Marina Abramović, with the sexual element even further front-and-center. This is not difficult to take, however, for Bobbi Jene has a wonderful, beautifully-sculpted body, a pretty face and flowing hair, all of which we see plenty of during the course of the doc. Her commitment to her cause certainly comes through, even if that cause seems at times more than a little one-note.

A narrative movie would also have allowed more probing into subjects that, here, are simply brought up and then laid to rest: Bobbi Jene comes from a hugely Christian, maybe even fundamentalist, family. Surely the split, even the reconciliation was filled with more drama than we experience from the documentary. Ditto the relationship with Or (shown above, left).

So far as her sensational dance piece is concerned, maybe you have to witness this in person. For all the praise and tears and accolades we see the audience heaping on her, post-show, what we actually view via the film certainly did not move me to any extreme whatsoever.

And yet Bobbi Jean's story is a fascinating one. Its combination of needs -- sexual, psychological, practical and career-wise -- makes it unusual and compelling. But the film itself, as much as any I've recently viewed (save last week's very personal and oddball family memoir Red Trees), puts me in mind of how "incomplete" even a good documentary can be.

From Oscilloscope Films, in mostly the English language, and running 95 minutes, Bobbi Jene, opens this Friday, September 22, in New York City at the Quad Cinema; on Friday, October 6, in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal; and on Friday, October 13, in San Diego at Media Arts Center. To view any further additions to the playdates/cities/theaters list, click here then click on SCREENINGS (or simply scroll down).

Saffire & Schlesinger's RESTLESS CREATURE WENDY WHELAN goes inside a legendary ballet dancer facing age, pain and retirement

A great ballerina coming to terms with aging, a possibly career-ending hip operation, necessary change and the eventual need to do something other than dance -- all this and more is covered in one of the best ballet-dancer-biographies yet brought to the screen. RESTLESS CREATURE WENDY WHELAN, the new documentary from Linda Saffire and Adam Schlesinger, is right up there with Nancy Buirski's Afternoon of a Faun: Tanaquil Le Clercq and much better than the recent Misty Copeland bio-doc, A  Ballerina's Tale.

Saffire and Schlesinger (shown at right) appear to have had remarkable access to Ms Whelan -- at rehearsal, in actual performance, at home with her husband (photographer, David Michalek), and with her New York City Ballet "boss" Peter Martins (who, as always, comes across as someone you can trust about as far as you can toss), and with many of her ballet partners, past and present. The result is a multi-faceted look at Whelan that makes the ballerina seems remarkably consistent: a huge talent who is simultaneously a good person. As one of her contemporaries points out far into the movie, Whelan's behavior to everyone in the company -- from security guard to dresser to other dancers -- changed for the better the way that the dance company operated.

Restless Creature (which doubles as the name of the dance project Whelan came up with as a route to her post-NYC Ballet career), though it does not spend all that much time on her past and childhood history, opens in media res, as the dancer is faced with an upcoming hip operation that could end her dancing career. How she handles this, with courage and difficulty, is as exemplary as so much else that we see.

And yet, because the filmmakers zero in so finely and consistently on this woman, we can easily believe what we see and hear.  Whelan does indeed seem beloved of so many of her co-workers and choreographers, and as we see her dance (at first just in snippets, then longer and more involved as the documentary proceeds), we actually get some understanding of how difficult all this is and why dance careers, so like sports careers, are usually quite circumscribed, if not downright short. (At age 47 -- when the movie was shot -- Whelan has had an unusually long and successful run of 30 years.)

We hear from her choreographers, too, and learn something of how they work with their dancers to create the beauty and magic we view from the audience. Though the idea -- first of the operation and what its result might be, and then of the actual retirement that looms  -- seem to have our dancer often on the verge of tears, she never (or the filmmaker have chosen not to let us see this) gives in to them.

The post-operation ups and down are shown us, too, and at times the movie seems almost like a suspense thriller: So the career is over? Wait: Maybe not! "When am I gonna know that I'm safe again?"  the  dancer asks at one point.

Overall, bits from some 20 different ballets are shown us, and at the conclusion, we realize what all this has been building toward: a final dance that is so sensational that you'll fully appreciate and understand both why ballet is such a beloved art form and what Whelan has done to enrich it. Then all the applause and the flowers and the love arrive. What a moment. What a movie!

From Abramorama, Restless Creature: Wendy Whelan opens in New York City this Wednesday, May 24, at Film Forum and The Film Society of Lincoln Center. It hits Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal on Friday, June 9, and will play a number of other cities around the country, as well. Click here to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

Stephen Belber's MATCH gives Patrick Stewart, Carla Gugino and Matthew Lillard plum roles

Identity proves the pivot point in MATCH, the new film from Stephen Belber, who, back in 2009, gave us a very interesting, funny and charming rom-com entitled Management and also wrote the screenplay for Richard Linklater's Tape. One man's identity and why someone else might care about this are the questions that arise in the course of the film, written and directed by Belber and starring a very fine threesome: Patrick Stewart, Carla Gugino and Matthew Lillard, all working at close to the height of their not inconsiderable powers.

Mr. Belber, shown at right, is a writer who's very clever with dialog, as a look at his resume will demonstrate. Here his screenplay, extremely dialog-heavy, is also adapted from his original play and is full of exposition done smartly and for a very good reason. The film's beginning is all about a graduate student (Ms Gugino) and her interview with a famous dancer, choreographer and teacher (Mr. Stewart), abetted by the student's not particularly helpful husband (Mr. Lillard). A lot of history is covered quickly and smartly, with Stewart playing the ever-so-slightly preening celebrity, enjoying a new moment or two in the sun, as he regales his listeners with stories of his life and career.

It is not long before we realize that the agenda here is something other than the stated one, and from there onwards the movie -- highly enjoyable from its outset -- becomes even more so, as well as exciting and surprising.  This is a role different from anything Stewart, shown above and below, has previously tackled (in my memory, at least), and it requires him to run the kind of gamut of emotions we're not used to seeing from this actor. He nails every nook and cranny.

Ms Gugino, below, comes through beautifully, too. Always a gifted actress, as well as a beauty, she brings a special vulnerability to her role that becomes more endearing and moving as the movie rolls along.

Mr. Lillard (below, left) is probably the biggest surprise here. Too often relegated to bozo roles earlier in his career, he comes into his own quite beautifully as the hubby with issues too heavy for him to handle. He's angry, closed off, and frightened of his own strength, which he's beginning to use in ways not at all wise.

Match is a kind of chamber piece; we see a few other performers along the way but it's these three who count for everything, and they play off each other beautifully. I would think this movie must have been a joy to film; it certainly is one to view.

The movie -- from IFC Films and running 92 minutes -- opens this Wednesday here in New York City at, I suspect, the IFC Center; in Los Angeles look for it at Laemmle's Playhouse 7 and Music Hall 3. If you're located elsewhere than on either coast, fear not, for the film makes it VOD debut simultaneously with its theatrical opening. 

A balletomaine streaming "must": Nancy Buirski's doc re Tanaquil LeClercq AFTERNOON OF A FAUN

TrustMovies is no balletomaine, but he still would not have wanted to miss the recent documentary AFTERNOON OF A FAUN: TANAQUIL LE CLERCQ. Many of us older folk (maybe some younger, too) have heard Ms LeClercq's name bandied about in the dance world over the years, so it is good to now know just why that name, the rather amazing dancer/woman to whom it belonged, and her immense reputation remain so securely fixed in American ballet history. Part of the American Masters series via PBS, and one of the better of those films, the documentary received a critically-acclaimed theatrical release some time back and can now be streamed on Netflix, Amazon and elsewhere, or caught on DVD.

As written and directed by Nancy Buirski, the film grabs us from the outset, as we enter the world of ballet and George Balanchine (shown at bottom, left, with LeClercq), the name still most firmly associated with that art here in the USA. Jerome Robbins makes quite an appearance, as well, and as nasty and unpleasant a person as he is often said to have been, he comes across here as a man who was enchanted enough with Tanaquil to be able to actually be a genuine friend (with a little extra prodding now and then)..

There is a wealth of archival footage here (much of it less than hi-def, coming from the 1940s, 50s and 60s as it does), of ballet and New York City and even Europe and Scandinavia (reaching for international acclaim, American ballet traveled frequently back then).

We see and hear from those dancers still around today -- Arthur Mitchell and Jacques D'Amboise (below) -- plus old friends of Tanaquil. Together they (with the help of the filmmaker) weave a fine portrait of this dancer who captivated audiences worldwide until... something very bad happened.

What, how and why is brought to us with shock and sadness, yet the dancer's life went on for quite some time -- but without dance. It's a great tale, beautifully told and one that will bring you up close and personal with a woman who, until now, has been but a name and kind of distant legend for many of us.

Here's your chance to meet her about as intimately as one can imagine doing in a 91-minute film -- which, as I say, you can view now via Netflix streaming and elsewhere, and on DVD.