Drama on the dancefloor

No one who is even mildly interested in ballet should miss this prize-winning offering from Dayna Goldfine and Dan Geller. It is one of the best-researched and most eloquent documentaries ever made.

The dramatic story of both triumph and failure starts at the turn of the century: the Diaghilev-era beginnings of the ground-breaking dance company formed to bring Russian dance to the West. It concludes with the troupe's sad end as Serge Denham's Ballet Russes de Monte Carlo in 1962.

The journey down the years is an extraordinary one, full of surprises (unless you know your ballet history). After Dhiagilev's death in 1929, the company was dissolved, and subsequently resurrected, only to be split in two by a pair of jealously competing impresarios.

Both troupes contained some of the greatest dancers of the last century, yet were frequently reduced to constant touring, minimum salaries and playing in front of audiences who had often never seen classical ballet before.

The dancers interviewed, now long retired, don't stint on either their praise or criticism of their fellow company members, the choreographers, such as Massine and Balanchine, and the often incompetent managers.

They talk of jealousies, egotism and favouritism. But most of all they talk of the sheer hard work of trying to survive during the war years and after, when Latin America and Australia seemed the only places that could reliably sustain audiences.

If the painstakingly collected archive footage only gives a brief impression of the brilliance of the dancers, the commentary, and the comments of those who danced, add a great deal to the proceedings.

This is a tale that couldn't possibly have been invented; if it were fictional, you'd have difficulty believing it. Balletomanes will want to know that Alicia Markova, Irina Baranova, Frederic Franklin, Tatiana Stepanova, Nathalie Krassovska and Nina Novak are among those interviewed. Mostly Russian names, you'll note. Not all of the dancers were Russian and some added "ova" to their names in order to be taken seriously.

Such gossipy details are abundant, including some concerning the impresario who fell in love with a middling ballerina and promoted her to leading dancer with mediocre results.

If you suspect that this might be a boring flip through the history of 20th century ballet, you'd better think again.