| The Dancer Upstairs marks John
Malkovich’s first big-screen directorial effort,
a film loosely adapted from Nicholas Shakespeare’s novel
of the same name. Both stories involve a South American cop
who is assigned to track the movements of a guerilla organization
before a revolution occurs. With prior experience in acting
and directing theater productions, Malkovich handles this film
with skill and creates believable characters involving pertinent
issues.
Much of the realism can be attributed to the source material,
which is based off the search for Peru’s terrorist group The
Shining Path. However, the subheadings tell us that this film
takes place in the Latin America in the “near past,” and any
mention of a country or time period is purposely left out
to make the movie more universal. Though the overall setting
is vague, characters, events, and small details such as street
names are so vivid that there is still a strong sense of place.
Agustin Rejas (Bardem) is the cop. He had previously
been a lawyer, but the corruptness of the judicial system
motivated him to find a “more honest way of practicing the
law.” One day while making his rounds with fellow cop Sucre
(Botto), they spot a dead dog hanging from a lamppost.
The dog has dynamite in its mouth and a sign around its neck
proclaiming “Viva el Presidente Ezequiel.” Soon Rejas
and the rest of the country begin to experience more dynamite,
more deaths, more fear, and more cryptic messages from the
unknown entity Ezequiel. Rejas’ superior, General Merino (Cotton),
instructs him to put together a team, and explains that Rejas
must become a tomcat himself in order to capture the tomcat
Ezequiel.
As the clues come together, Rejas and his assistants Sucre
and Llosa (Minguez) discover that Ezequiel is a self-proclaimed
Fourth Flame of Communism who plans on creating a revolution
by strategically winning small victories one at a time and
instilling fear in the people. As Ezequiel gains power, the
government becomes restless and sends the army to roam the
streets with large guns, drive around town with vehicles full
of soldiers, and consequently hinder Rejas’ investigation.
To successfully find the guerilla leader, Rejas must follow
all the rules of his boss, the army, and his own stringent
rules of honesty and morality.
What makes this cop-and-criminal story so different from
others is Rejas’ humanity, brought to life here so well by
Bardem. Unlike the usual scenario where cocky cops slink confidently
into enemy territory, weapons firmly in hand, Rejas approaches
a suspicious house with fear in his eyes, awkwardly holding
a pistol that looks unfamiliar in his grasp. At home, Rejas
has a wife and daughter, and puts on an apron and washes dishes
just like the rest of us. The transitions between tense and
mundane moments are seamless and natural.
Even when Rejas meets Yolanda (Morante), his daughter’s
beautiful and talented dance instructor, their relationship
is slow and genuine, not accelerated to fit the length of
the movie. He is intrigued by her and likes to spend time
with her, but Rejas also has a family that he loves and is
responsible for. As their relationship grows deeper, a sense
of trust begins to develop. But this trust is deceptive; though
Rejas spends his days enforcing the law, for safety reasons
he cannot reveal his true occupation to Yolanda.
The majority of The Dancer Upstairs is spoken in English,
though sometimes the characters slip into Spanish and Quechua,
a native South American language. During these times, subtitles
provide the necessary translation. Instead of interrupting
the dialogue, the changes in language add authenticity to
the characters and thus the effect of the movie.
—Kelly Hsu
|
out
of 5
While we would never encourage anyone to destroy a video... 
