There’s an early scene in The White Crow where Rudolf Nureyev, the Russian ballet dancer, stares intently at his sleeping dorm mate. The man is naked with a sheet artfully arranged to show a hint of shapely buttock. The audience shares Nureyev’s voyeuristic gaze. “IS HE GAY?,” a movie patron loudly whispered to his wife. “I. DON’T. KNOW.” she loudly whispered back.
I don’t blame them for their confusion. An intense stare is Nureyev’s default expression. Dancer Oleg Ivenko lacks the range to play him as much more than a glowering jerk. He can display anger, frustration and pride with that stare but little charm or humor. This is not the Nureyev who partied at Studio 54 or clowned with Miss. Piggy on The Muppet Show. This is a caged tiger bristling against the oppression of crippling poverty, a withholding father and malevolent government handlers.
David Hare’s screenplay juggles three timelines. Child Nureyev at home, 17 year old Nureyev at school and 23 year old Nureyev visiting Paris with the Mariinsky Ballet. We’re told in the opening minutes that he defected from the Soviet Union to the West in 1961. The rest of the film shows us why and how he did it. This structure is not new to bio pics but I prefer it to the chronological checklist of recent films like Bohemian Rhapsody and Mapplethorpe.
With an opaque performance at the center it’s up to the supporting cast to steer us into the story. Ralph Fiennes’s self-effacing dance instructor, Adèle Exarchopoulos’s grief stricken heiress, and Chulpan Khamatova’s predatory temptress see Nureyev’s potential and build bridges faster than his temper can burn them. Aleksey Morozov wisely underplays a KGB antagonist who can see the political danger Nureyev’s growing stardom brings.
IS HE GAY? That depends on who you ask. Some writers would call him bisexual. Others highlight, as this film does, the transactional nature of his relationships with wealthy, influential women. His tenderness was saved for his romances with male dancers. It’s here where actor Oleg Ivenko lowers the mask and shows some much needed vulnerability.
I’ll spoiler tag a discussion of two “gay” scenes from late in the film.
[spoiler title=Spoilers] The first is when Nureyev is sitting on the floor with that handsome dorm mate (Sergei Polunin). As they talk Nureyev casually leans against him and is quickly rebuffed. The pain and despair that flickers across his face in that moment spoke volumes. It’s a moment gay men might recognize from their own coming out experiences.
The second scene arrives 80 minutes in. After spending time with his female lovers we’re rewarded an post coital nude scene from Louis Hoffman as German dancer Teja Kremke. This time Nureyev wears the modesty sheet as Hoffman allows him and the audience to drink him in. Hoffman recently starred in the gay coming of age film Center of My World. There he was timid and shy. Here he’s brassy and confident, offering Nureyev straightforward affection and advice that other men have denied him. It’s a balm to the character and the audience.
David Hare doesn’t blame repressed sexuality for all of Nureyev’s neuroses but he gives it the gravity it deserves. That’s more than I can say for The Imitation Game. [/spoiler]
Yes that’s all very well. But what of the dance? Well reader, I unfortunately lack the vocabulary to discuss it at length. We’re shown snippets of rehearsals and performances. We see him fail steps… then succeed at them. We hear him boast that he “stole” the steps of female dancers. We’re not shown the male choreography he’s rebelling against so I had to take his word for it.
Critics have been hard of The White Crow but it engaged me. It opens cold but gains heat as it builds to glorious finale. Nureyev’s final rebellion against the KGB agents builds the white knuckle tension that Lucas Hedges summoned in the climax of Boy Erased. He’s presented as a jerk but, unlike the recent Mapplethorpe, we’re given the context to understand how he got that way. I’m still waiting for an LGBT+ biopic that captures the joy of art as well as the suffering. Here’s hoping Taron Egerton’s performance in Rocketman can bridge that gap later this month.
How familiar are you with the legacy of Rudloph Nureyev? Will you be seeing The White Crow? For more reviews of LGBT+ media click here.
