Director: James Toback
Writer: James Toback
Review by D. Highmore (posted on 8-Aug-2007)
I saw this movie many years ago and never forgot it. As a Nureyev fan I loved this movie. He was not acting per se. The whole thing was a dance. The scene where he was making love to Nastasia Kinski will be with me forever.He performed it just as he would a love scene in Swan Lake.
To really appreciate this movie you must watch it as a ballet, then you can really appreciate Rudolph's performance.
Review by anonymous (posted on 19-Mar-2005)
It was a long time ago, but will give it a try:
To be honest, I only recall three other viewers being in the theater besides me and my boyfriend, another couple in the shadows, and a lone guy. Anyway, the emptiness hit us as odd, but we had great seats, felt like a private showing.
It was very dramatic. Nureyev appeared. I have a memory of him standing in front of a fireplace or something, arms maybe outstretched on the mantel, posing as a heterosexual.
He was supposed to be looking seductive, magnetically virile, in a classic, majestic violinist sort of way. The archetypal Musician Aristocrat with the powers of mature genius.
Maybe it was his twitching, pouting lips, or the way he held his head so emotionally aloft, or the twists implied in the subtle contours of his shouldered pose -- anyway I lost it bigtime and burst out laughing. My friend sank down into his seat. I couldn't stop. Tears flowed. I got louder, more hysterical. The movie was the funniest thing I had ever seen!
The producers must have realized something along that line. Next thing I knew there were horrible black and white photos of Holocaust victims on screen. It worked. I stopped laughing. Only a monster could laugh. Since what they were doing was obvious, it seemed disgraceful.
The rest of the movie is a bit of a blur. The comedy resumed shortly; but, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, it took a few moments to overcome the outrage.
My friend, still sunk in his seat, was giving me "shhh"'s. Through the convulsive laughter and blinding tears, I recall Nastassja Kinski doing some kind of Dance of the Gluteus Maximus. And another scene where Nureyev used his mighty violin bow, bowing all over her mighty hot body in the most un-hot, cornball way. Also a lot of fakey violining.
By the end of this unique film there were a few chuckles from out there in the darkness, and my friend had forgiven me.
We had seen a movie that had lived up to its title.
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