‘Ballet is fucking punk rock,” declaims corps de ballet member Shaelynn Estrada, towards the end of this absorbing documentary, which might be a bit of a definitional stretch for some viewers – but it sort of makes sense. I guess Estrada wants to celebrate the hardcore commitment the art requires from performers like her, or maybe its capacity to elicit raw emotion. Whatever she’s trying to say, there’s no denying Estrada herself is pretty punk rock herself, a ferociously likable character whose transition from home-schooled army brat (who paid for ballet lessons as a kid by cleaning the studio) to being member of the National Ballet of Canada’s corps makes up one of several very compelling stories in this solid documentary.
As the film’s director Chelsea McMullan and crew observe the rehearsals and lead-up to the company’s debut of a new production of Swan Lake in 2022, a diverse range of characters are introduced. First and foremost is the production’s director Karen Kain, a former prima who became the company’s artistic director, and is about to retire after this show debuts (hence the title). Diplomatic and relentlessly elegant, Kain seems as classical and echt-ballet as Estrada is punk, even if she remembers the night Rudolf Nureyev took her to a party where she met Andy Warhol among heaped bowls of cocaine. (She has a portrait of herself by Warhol to prove it.) Meanwhile, representing another facet of ballet identity, the company’s current superstar, Jurgita Dronina is struggling in near secrecy with a nerve injury. With the lead role of Odette/Odile in the show, Dronina is every bit the stoic star, suffering for her art.
After a series of awkward rehearsals and setbacks, it doesn’t seem like a sure thing that the company will pull it all together for opening night. The show in fact makes some departures from tradition, such as having the corps not wear white or pink tights that make them all look homogeneously Caucasian, a break with tradition that Black Australian dancer Tene Ward welcomes especially. Unfolding not long after the Covid-19 lockdowns that shut theatres and performance spaces everywhere, this offers an interesting snapshot of an art form struggling, like so many others, with changing expectations about representation. McMullan has a light touch with these deeper themes, and edits together the dance sequences seamlessly, tweaking the music in places to give the film an extra modernity. By the end, ballet as practised here does indeed look a bit punk rock.
