50 Years After, THE RED SHOES Dance On and On - motion picture - Abstract

Dance Magazine, Dec, 1998 by Doris Perlman

You just can't kill The Red Shoes. Fifty years after its release, the 1948 Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger film continues to fascinate and influence audiences, both cinematic experts and ordinary moviegoers. It is widely shown on public and cable television channels and at revival houses. A videocassette is available, and a new state-of-the-art version has recently appeared on LaserDisc. Washington Square Press has even reissued a paperback edition of Powell and Pressburger's novelization of their own screenplay (it doesn't read too well on the printed page, but no matter). Now in her seventies, Moira Shearer--the ravishing redheaded Scot without whom, Powell said, he could never have made the film--is still queried about it, most recently in an online interview by Dan Lybarger in Pitch Weekly of January 22, 1998, where she once again describes how reluctant she was to interrupt her ballet career to make the film and how physically grueling the experience turned out to be.

Even an extraordinarily unsuccessful attempt at a Broadway musical version in 1993; a less-than-thrilling Lar Lubovitch ballet excerpted from the show; and a recent poorly received effort by Denmark's Flemming Flindt, Legs of Fire, can't seem to diminish the public's interest in the story, very loosely based on the far more grisly Hans Christian Andersen tale. Martin Scorsese, who ought to know, has named the film one of the five greatest of all time (his other choices: 8 1/2, Citizen Kane, The Leopard, and The Searchers), and British alternative-rock singer Kate Bush, apparently obsessed, produced a 1993 CD and video inspired by TRS. The package cover illustration for the CD features the obligatory gorgeous, undanced-in red satin pointe shoes.

British film reviewer Ian Christie noted that The Red Shoes "launched a thousand dance careers," and he has probably underestimated the number. Young, predominantly female, audience members, seeing the film at a highly impressionable time of life, were drawn to the irresistible blend of glamour, intense work, love, and sacrifice represented by Victoria Page, the beauteous ballerina who seemed to have everything but couldn't hold on to it.

New York City dancelover Cynthia O'Neal states on page 100 of the June 1997 Dance Magazine, "You know, I was one of those little girls who saw The Red Shoes twenty-seven times ...," and she is by no means alone. One former dancer who now teaches recalls that dance was always her first love, long before she saw the film. Brought up on old lithographs of Taglioni and photos of Pavlova and Markova, she was afraid that, as a blonde, she could never look like a ballerina. Seeing Moira Shearer's glorious red hair--practically the raison d'etre of the film--made her realize that one need not be a brunette to succeed, and she went on to a rewarding career in ballet. An actual redhead, Dance Magazine's Oklahoma correspondent, Lili Cockerille Livingston, author of the recent American Indian Ballerinas, who danced with the New York City, Harkness, and Joffrey ballets, writes: "Ah, The Red Shoes. The first time I saw the movie in the early riffles, I was completely awed by the beauty, romantic overtones, and (I can now articulate) the ... dance movement. Yes, I dreamed about it and, as a redhead, could certainly identify with the aquamarine chiffon gown and poignant delicacy of Moira Shearer. [Leonide] Massine fascinated me, and--having the opportunity to work with him in the Joffrey Ballet's revival of Le Tricorne--I came to understand why.

"Later, as a professional dancer, I was often compared with Shearer and enjoyed ... living and performing in Monte Carlo [where much of the film is set] with the Harkness Ballet. I even bought my own aquamarine chiffon dress and was wont to wander on the beach under the road and train tracks directly below the Opera House.

"Seeing the movie later in life was not a disappointment. The magical, incredible focus of the characters--regardless of less-than-pristine technical abilities--remained awesome. Indeed, a tree classic in the genre of dance films."

"Ruth," also from Oklahoma, posted this on the Internet: "I wanted to be a dancer after seeing the movie. It was such an inspiration to a little Okle girl. Although Moira suffered and died, I didn't care. Something was very moving and compelling about the suffering--to be so devoted and dedicated to the art, to give up love, and to sacrifice. Now I see it as silly and immature, but sometimes soulful little girls need or want to have something to believe in. I suppose some are drawn to religion at this stage in life, but my religion was dance."

In yet another Internet posting, an academic writes that seeing the film made her think that a dance career was too difficult, and she became an archaeologist instead. She adds, "Silly me."

Over the years, students at various New York City open ballet classes have been treated to the sight of a dumpy woman of more than a certain age stumping around in reddyed pointe shoes, presumably in memory of Moira/Vicky. (Lately, she seems to have switched to pink; perhaps she has used up the local supply of red dye.) The woman has become something of an American ballet legend, with people from as far away as Albuquerque having heard of her. At least she hasn't dyed her hair red as well!