Seeing this 1985 movie (dubbed without irony by director Taylor Hackford as a "political dance thriller" in his DVD commentary) over twenty years later in a pristine new print reminds me exactly what I thought about it back then. That is that Hackford recruited two world-class dancers of completely different genres and then went about and contrived a far-fetched Cold War thriller story around them. It is really the unparalleled dancing that makes this film still watchable beginning with Mikhail Baryshnikov's extraordinary performance of Roland Petit's ballet, "Le jeune homme et la mort", opposite Florence Faure over the opening credits. His artful athleticism inevitably makes the rest of his acting feel rather pedestrian, as he unsurprisingly portrays Nikolai Rodchenko, a world-renowned Russian ballet dancer who has defected to the US after having been the leading performer of the Kirov Ballet.
Written by James Goldman, the plot has his character on a Tokyo-bound airliner that's forced to land in Siberia where KGB authorities want to detain him in order to have him stay permanently in his homeland. To help matters along, Colonel Chaiko, the chief Soviet intelligence officer, decides to have Rodchenko live with Raymond Greenwood, a black American who has defected to the Soviet Union because the pervasive racism has not allowed his own artistic freedom. Gregory Hines acquits himself admirably with this impossible role, but more importantly, it simply provides him an excuse to dazzle with his own "tap improvography" (the actual verbiage used in the end credits) in a couple of spectacular tap numbers. The two masters even get to duet twice, and instead of looking incompatible, they are quite stunning as they mesh their divergent styles fluidly.
The rest of the overly long story feels like an old episode of the 1960's TV series, "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." where Chaiko plots to convince Rodchenko to stay by reinstating him at the Kirov, which is now under the management of his abandoned lover, Gailna Ivanova. Trust issues arise between the former lovers, and yet another complicating element to his escape is Greenwood's Russian wife Darya who has not fully reconciled with her husband's U.S.-bred values and stays fearful at the possibility of leaving the Soviet Union. The events in the last quarter of the film consist of standard-issue spy thriller clichés and it all ends in a quite unbelievable manner.
Polish film director Jerzy Skomilowsky portrays Chaiko in an all-too-familiar dastardly manner. Playing Russian women, Isabella Rossellini (in her American film debut) and especially Helen Mirren are convincing, even if their decidedly secondary roles require little more than crying and expressing regrets. At certain moments and I'm sure they are quite intentional, Rossellini emits a glowing innocence similar to her mother Ingrid Bergman in her youth. The estimable Geraldine Page is wasted playing Rodchenko's agitated American manager. The soundtrack brings back nostalgic memories for me, even if the 1980's-style music makes the film feel as dated as the persistently gray images of pre-Gorbachev Russia.
The new 2006 DVD includes a relatively insightful commentary track from Hackford and a nice twenty-minute looking-back featurette which includes remembrances from Hackford, Rossellini and Mirren and a brief tribute to Hines who died in 2003. The original theatrical trailer, a piece of 80's kitsch in itself, is also included as well as previews to unrelated dance-oriented films and DVDs.
Written by James Goldman, the plot has his character on a Tokyo-bound airliner that's forced to land in Siberia where KGB authorities want to detain him in order to have him stay permanently in his homeland. To help matters along, Colonel Chaiko, the chief Soviet intelligence officer, decides to have Rodchenko live with Raymond Greenwood, a black American who has defected to the Soviet Union because the pervasive racism has not allowed his own artistic freedom. Gregory Hines acquits himself admirably with this impossible role, but more importantly, it simply provides him an excuse to dazzle with his own "tap improvography" (the actual verbiage used in the end credits) in a couple of spectacular tap numbers. The two masters even get to duet twice, and instead of looking incompatible, they are quite stunning as they mesh their divergent styles fluidly.
The rest of the overly long story feels like an old episode of the 1960's TV series, "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." where Chaiko plots to convince Rodchenko to stay by reinstating him at the Kirov, which is now under the management of his abandoned lover, Gailna Ivanova. Trust issues arise between the former lovers, and yet another complicating element to his escape is Greenwood's Russian wife Darya who has not fully reconciled with her husband's U.S.-bred values and stays fearful at the possibility of leaving the Soviet Union. The events in the last quarter of the film consist of standard-issue spy thriller clichés and it all ends in a quite unbelievable manner.
Polish film director Jerzy Skomilowsky portrays Chaiko in an all-too-familiar dastardly manner. Playing Russian women, Isabella Rossellini (in her American film debut) and especially Helen Mirren are convincing, even if their decidedly secondary roles require little more than crying and expressing regrets. At certain moments and I'm sure they are quite intentional, Rossellini emits a glowing innocence similar to her mother Ingrid Bergman in her youth. The estimable Geraldine Page is wasted playing Rodchenko's agitated American manager. The soundtrack brings back nostalgic memories for me, even if the 1980's-style music makes the film feel as dated as the persistently gray images of pre-Gorbachev Russia.
The new 2006 DVD includes a relatively insightful commentary track from Hackford and a nice twenty-minute looking-back featurette which includes remembrances from Hackford, Rossellini and Mirren and a brief tribute to Hines who died in 2003. The original theatrical trailer, a piece of 80's kitsch in itself, is also included as well as previews to unrelated dance-oriented films and DVDs.