Cast: Javier Bardem, Laura Morante, Juan Diego Botto, Elvira Minguez, Alexandra Lencastre, Oliver Cotton
Director: John Malkovich
Producers: Andrés Vicente Gómez, John Malkovich
Screenplay: Nicholas Shakespeare, based on his novel
Cinematography: José Luis Alcaine
Music: Alberto Iglesias
U.S. Distributor: Fox Searchlight
John Malkovich's directorial debut, The Dancer Upstairs, is a political melodrama set in an unnamed Latin American country during "the recent past." Based on Nicholas Shakespeare's novel of the same name (which fictionalized the pursuit and capture of Abimael Guzman, leader of Peru's The Shining Path), the movie combines an investigation into the identity and location of a revolutionary guerilla leader with a tender and bittersweet foray into doomed, unrequited love. Although the material sounds compelling and engrossing, the movie is ultimately undone by a combination of Malkovich's somnambulant pace and screenwriter Nicholas Shakespeare's desire to focus upon the least interesting aspects of the production.
The Dancer Upstairs opens with a brief prologue chronicling a meeting at a police checkpoint between the officer in charge, Agustin Rejas (Javier Bardem), and a philosophy professor (Abel Folk). Years later, that philosophy professor, going by the name of Ezequiel Durán, is deemed to be a serious threat to national security. Believing himself to be the "Fourth Flame of Communism" (after Marx, Lenin, and Mao), Ezequiel is inciting the people to rebel against the government, and is using terrorist methods to promote his agenda. Rejas is assigned the job of unearthing him and bringing him to justice, but, before his investigation begins bearing fruit, a significant military figure is assassinated and martial law is declared. Now, Rejas' every move is scrutinized by soldiers.
Meanwhile, Rejas' personal life is stable, but unfulfilling. An innocent liaison with his daughter's dance teacher, Yolanda (Laura Morante), threatens to lead to something more when Rejas examines the emotional gulf that has opened between himself and his wife, Sylvina (Alexandra Lencastre), who is increasingly fascinated by superficial things. Rejas likes being with Yolanda, and contrives ways to be around her. He senses that she feels as strongly about him as he does about her, but they both recognize that any deep or lasting attachment is unlikely and unrealistic, especially in the current political climate.
For the most part, the investigation is a bore. Any fan of a good detective story knows that the key to keeping the viewer's interest is to build momentum. In The Dancer Upstairs, things start promisingly, but they plateau early and end up stalled for too long. When the expected payoff scene arrives, it is anticlimactic and unsatisfying. During one of the film's key investigative sequences, which features policemen sifting through garbage looking for unfiltered Camel cigarettes and medication for eczema, I was reminded of the TV show "CSI."
That isn't the association Malkovich is aiming for. He wants us to think of the Costa-Gavras films from the '60s and '70s. (To emphasize this point, we see Rejas watching State of Siege on television.) Like Costa-Gavras, Malkovich develops a politically turbulent backdrop in front of which the story can unfold, although The Dancer Upstairs is thin when it comes to details. Other than the bare facts – a revolution is brewing, the government has declared martial law, and there's a manhunt underway for Ezequiel – we're left pretty much in the dark about what's really going on. It's enough to cause one to feel stranded in Allegory Alley.
More compelling than the detective story is that of Rejas' relationship with Yolanda. These two click. There's real chemistry between them, and their interludes keep the movie from losing its focus. Their conversations are the only interesting ones written by Shakespeare (Nicholas, not William). We sense from the beginning that the relationship won't go anywhere. Rejas is married and is the kind of upright man who won't stray. But, even as we recognize this, we also see how much better matched he is with Yolanda than with his wife. If The Dancer Upstairs had spent more time with these two and less with the hunt for Ezequiel, it would have been more engrossing.
If nothing else, Malkovich has crafted an impressive looking film. There's a lot of artistry in his direction – so much so, that, at times, it borders on the pretentious. José Luis Alcaine's photography is evocative, and the tone, lugubrious though it might be, is firmly established. The real strength of The Dancer Upstairs is Javier Bardem (Oscar nominated for Before Night Falls), who brings conviction to the part of Rejas. Bardem has a forceful, charismatic presence. There are times when he's the only reason we stay interested in the movie. Laura Morante is well-matched to Bardem, although she has only about one-third of his screen time.
I have a great deal of respect for John Malkovich as an actor, but, based on this film, the jury is out about whether he has a future behind the camera. There's no arguing that The Dancer Upstairs is ambitious material for a first-time outing, but, even with a huge assist from his lead actor, Malkovich doesn't nail it. The movie may appeal to fans of Costa-Gavras (although that has to be a rather limited audience), but, with little other than the love story subplot to energize the proceedings, many viewers will find that, for all its grace, The Dancer Upstairs moves too slowly.
© 2003 James Berardinelli