Review: ‘Dancer,’ a documentary about Sergei Polunin

As a blanket look at a performer considered in some circles to be a noteworthy cultural icon, filmmaker Steven Cantor’s documentary, Dancer –profiling controversial ballerina Sergei Polunin – does a decent job of covering its factual bases in an entertaining manner. As a look into what makes its subject tick, it’s a bit less successful. That’s frustrating because everything off about the film could have easily been fixed, but Dancer is still strong enough to warrant a mild pass for those interested either in Polunin or dance.

Ukrainian born Polunin was raised in relative poverty, owing his career to a mother and father who risked their own marriage in hopes of making enough money to get the young man the education and training he needed to become a world class dancer. Valuing the sacrifices of his family, Polunin dedicated every waking moment to his craft, skyrocketing to notoriety after being accepted to London’s renowned Royal Ballet School and becoming the youngest principal in the history of the Royal Ballet. At only 19, he was already one of the most sought after stars in the ballet world. Comparisons to Rudolf Nureyev abounded. By 23, however, Polunin was starting to burn out. He courted controversy by openly stating that he thinks he performed better under the influence of cocaine and painkillers. His struggles with addiction, hard partying, and depression were well documented. His Twitter account was a PR reps’ worst nightmare. Worst of all, the oft branded difficult Polunin walked away from a coveted gig that some would kill for and had to start his career from scratch again in Russia, home of the toughest ballet audiences in the world.

The usually press averse Polunin remains charming, candid and forthcoming to Cantor throughout Dancer, making no apologies or outright explanations for his behaviour outside of the obvious. He admits that some of his decisions weren’t the best in the long run, but that they were his decisions to make. His parents, former teachers, and colleagues more or less back up everything Polunin says about himself, and instead of feeling a bit like a cheat, it’s refreshing to know that Polunin isn’t holding anything back or lying to viewers. He seems quite pleased to be able to get the details of his life out in a warts and all fashion. He’s as honest a figure as most performing arts documentaries can ask for.

The problem here isn’t so much Polunin, but Cantor’s approach to his subject. Dancer is a more or less straightforward biopic that looks at the ups and downs of Polunin’s possibly stalled/possibly ended career, but Canto seems more enamoured with the ins and outs of the ballet world. Everything regarding Polunin’s family history and troubled personal life feels informative, but uninspired in terms of how its delivered; like Cantor is biding his time until he can employ some more dance or home movie footage. It’s a biopic that starts feeling over time like it can’t separate the person from their job, and in the case of someone as personally volatile and potentially self-destructive as Polunin, that becomes problematic. It’s not that Polunin comes across as evasive, but that Cantor isn’t asking the right questions, or perhaps more appropriately isn’t asking many questions at all.

The question as to how Polunin has dealt with his aversion to fame gets dangled a lot throughout, and the answer is right in front of Cantor’s face, but never fully broached. Polunin’s actions aren’t very different from many depressive creative types who came from nothing. They push themselves to staggering degrees most human beings wouldn’t, and when they feel like they’re not getting the respect they feel is due for their work, they walk away from what they love for a while and wallow in a combination of self-loathing and outward anger. Polunin admits to his depression, but Cantor’s film seems mystified by it, often portraying the ballerina unnecessarily as a petulant brat, when anyone who has ever dealt with severe depression knows this isn’t the case. Polunin seems the type who only answers questions that he has been asked, and unless it explicitly has to do with his splintered family or the art of dancing, Cantor seems loath to ask. This sort of stuff should be front and centre instead of relegated almost exclusively to the background.

That major flaw aside, Cantor does show how hard Polunin works, and the ability for the filmmaker to get close enough to capture the dancer’s unorthodox creative process is immeasurably fascinating. Cantor might have narrowed his focus a bit too much, but like Polunin, he nails exactly what he wants to focus on.

Dancer opens at select cinemas in Toronto, Vancouver, Calgary, Ottawa, and Halifax on Friday, January 10.

Check out the trailer for Dancer: