MisterWhiplash Robert Altman sets the stage and lets his players do what they do in his films. He's renown as one of the great directors to give actors freedom (he's probably in his own way as meticulous as Stanley Kubrick, only with far less takes), though one wonders if from time to time he does give his direction to an actor or to make sure they know what they're doing. But in his films, like with this Chicago dancing company presented in his 2003 film The Company, the people doing the work need to know what they're doing, and that's the key to getting process, since dance, like film, combines many elements (in terms of dance there's physical movement, there's acting and performance, there's emotion, there's music and lighting, and so on).I imagine that's what drew Altman to the project (it was said it took some consideration before he accepted the job), that and perhaps a connection with the character Malcolm McDowell plays, Mr. Antonelli. He doesn't have much of a ego, but when he needs to (or just wants to) he'll put on airs. While some of the students may roast him eventually- there's a company Christmas party where he's ruthlessly but pleasantly mocked- they always take what he says seriously, since when he speaks one listens, even if it's a rambling speech about what the 1960's were like. He, like Altman, is in control even when he doesn't seem to be doing much. And how the stage is set, as we see, goes a long way for a fantastic dance set-piece, be it with thirty people in crazy costumes or a couple in very sensual poses.The Company has not much plot to speak of- then again, Altman would probably rather get a root canal than worry about a plot- except that it's about a dance/ballet company putting on performances throughout a season, with some minor drama here and there, a small romance between a superstar in the group played by Neve Campbell and a chef played by James Franco (tender scenes but played for real, much like those in Thieves Like Us). But there are a few great scenes (and as Hawks would say, no bad ones), and one of them might be one of my favorite scenes, in terms of intentional (or not) artistic elements coming together, in any Altman film. There's a performance out at night in a park in front of hundreds. The first part goes reasonably well, with thunderstorm sounds in the background. Then Campbell and another dancer take the stage, and as the lovely string music swells, the lightning and thunder as well, and the rain falls and the crowd looks anxious but all the while wrapped up in the completely professional-breathtaking dancing on stage, with little dust and other things flying in the air. It's glorious.How much that was on the spot for Altman, or if it was planned to just shoot in the impending storm (or, perhaps, if it's all just made up for the movie), it's a really wonderful set piece among many others that are more conventionally stage-bound and shot with multiple cameras. The assortment is nice to see (a song from David Lynch's Industrial Symphony #1 even comes up). But it's those little scenes between people, where Altman breaks down artifice (or adds to it seamlessly, like a dance itself) that The Company gains its strength. One of which is the first time Franco and Campbell meet eye to eye at a bar. Watch as Franco sits and watched her play pool. This could go any number of ways from creepy to erotic, but it's more playful and ambiguous than that. We see the aftermath of this scene in a morning-after follow-up, but it's how Altman lets these actors be natural, find their space to look at one another or play pool, that is extraordinary.What The Company lacks in melodramatic tension or a real driving force towards something- the one criticism it could be given, though not a harsh one, is an almost disdain for any continuing conflict- is made up for in a principle need to express what it's like to create something, anything, on stage or on film, that's worth something. It's the work of an old master still looking for ways to create, or observe it being done.

wes-connors This documentary-styled film was made with the cooperation of Chicago's famed Joffrey Ballet. "Legendary director," alerts the DVD sleeve, "Robert Altman takes us into the world of the dancers whose professional and personal lives clash as they cope with the demands of a life in the ballet. Neve Campbell plays a gifted but conflicted company member on the verge of becoming a principal dancer at a fictional Chicago troupe," and, "James Franco co-stars as Campbell's boyfriend, a master chef who provides romance and refuge from the watchful eye of the pompous artistic director played by Malcolm McDowell." "The Company" is filled with nicely shot ballets, directed by Mr. Altman. It's difficult to say much about the film without being completely subjective. It's a beautiful production, and may appeal to viewers interested in the ballet. I found it too pretty to reveal much about the trials and tribulations it covers. There is some good emotion conveyed, for example, when a dancer is asked to leave the group; but, generally, there is no real grit given to the characters. Stuff happens, sacrifices are shown, and people work hard; but, their lives are not very interesting, especially when compared to other stories about the ballet.***** The Company (9/8/03) Robert Altman ~ Neve Campbell, Malcolm McDowell, James Franco, Barbara Robertson

tieman64 Watching "The Company", I was suddenly aware of how stylistically similar Robert Altman is to one of my other favourite directors, Frederick Wiseman.Wiseman is a documentary filmmaker who typically picks a space or institution as his subject (a high school, a town, a military base, a zoo, a hospital etc), and then sets about filming human beings as they work and interact within these self-contained environments. Wiseman improvises, shoots without a screenplay, is subtly satirical, hires small crews and seems content to simply observe people as they go about their various day-to-day routines within their chosen fields or environments. Altman operates in a similar way. With "The Company" he sets his sights on the Joffrey Ballet Group of Chicago, voyeuristically observing its inhabitants over the course of several months. There is seemingly no overriding narrative, no overt plot, only a series of connective strands, each character existing as a pebble in a vast mosaic.What separates Altman from Wiseman, however, is Altman's acute awareness of genre. Altman enjoys subverting expectations, turning war on its head in "MASH", noir with "The Long Goodbye", deconstructed "Bonnie and Clyde" with "Thieves Like Us", ripped apart the western with "Buffalo Bill" and "Mrs Miller", mauled the murder mystery with "Gosford Park" and pretty much invented the anti-narrative multi-character mosaic (badly imitated by Paul Haggis, Lawrence Kasdan, John Sayles, and Paul Thomas Anderson) with films like "Nashville" or "Short Cuts".With "The Company", the narrative being deconstructed is your usual "star is born" tale ("Showgirls", "Red Shoes", "All About Eve", "Black Swan" etc). Actress Neve Campbell, at first glance, appears to be the heart of the picture. She plays your typical lowly artist stereotype who works hard, hoping for that lucky break which will lead to her starring in the film's final grand performance.But as the film progresses, Altman will continually undermine the genres usual obstacles and clichés. Watch how he sets up Neve's final performance, only to have her fall and be pulled out of the show. Watch how he sets up Neve's argument with her lover, only to have them peacefully fall asleep together. Watch how he sets up a pushy mother who is consistently unable to get a word in. Watch how he sets up a thunderstorm which has no effect on the performance. Watch how he sets up the vindictive father of one ballet dancer, only to have the guy consistently brushed off.Time and time again, conflicts are set up and then undermined. This notion of avoiding conflict, of dodging the act of telling a story, is epitomised in the film by Mr A, the manager of the ballet company (and an obvious stand in for Robert Altman), who leaves the room whenever someone wishes to argue with him. The result is that, not only are conventions subverted, but the very act of storytelling seems avoided.One thus recalls the climax to Altman's "Thieves Like Us", a crime movie which likewise subverted gangster clichés. That film promised us your typical last act, gangster bloodbath, our bank robber heroes dying in slow motion, a hail of bullets peppering their bloody bodies. But when his climactic shootout occurs, Altman pulls the rug out from under our feet and cuts away. In this simple scene, we see how Altman operates. What is usually denied is given precedence; the spaces omitted in "normal" films are given, by Altman, room to breathe.For better or worse, reversals like this - both obvious and subtle - take place constantly throughout Altman's filmography. Enjoyment of his films thus depends on the audience having an intimate awareness of what is being subverted, deconstructed or undermined, which is perhaps why Altman is so despised. Those who like his films tend to like him for what he doesn't do. What he sets up and then rejects.Beyond all this you have the typical self-referential Altman layer. The act of preparing, improvising and putting on a show (ballet), is mirrored to the act of preparing, improvising and creating Altman's film. And of course you need a creative force in both worlds, personified by Mr A (Malcolm McDowell) in the film, Altman's doppelgänger. Such a self-referential layer is typical of Altman. "Nashville", "Buffalo Bill", "MASH", "Gosford Park", "Prairie Home Companion", "The Player", "Cookie's Fortune" etc, all revolve around large groups of people getting together and putting on a performance. What's fresh about "The Company" is the sheer level of restraint.8/10 - Worth two viewings.

Harry T. Yung I suppose you can call this splendid movie a documentary showing several months in the life of the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago. However, as there are some dramatized elements (albeit to a minimum), you can't technically call it a documentary. And yet, it's more truthful than many "full" documentaries. Completely free from contamination of melodrama, the movie shows us, in a matter-of-fact manner, things behind the stage – dedication and sacrifices, lucky breaks that even the top talents sometimes need, experienced performers arguing anainst new ideas, injury and understudy stepping in at a moment's notice, disappointment from being fired, and much more.Doing what he does best, master Altman gives you an inconspicuous spot in the rehearsal hall, in the meeting room, back stage, to show you how an idea evolves right from an artist's concept to a successful performance – the road that is sometimes painful, sometimes exhilarating and everything in between, the process that affects the lives of the people who are part of the whole. Overlapping dialogue here is not just Altman's artistic and technical trademark, but the way people REALLY speak. Through his amazing deployment of the camera, he also gives the audience a kaleidoscope of events and emotions that are fleeting and fluid, and yet remain with you long after the movie.In addition to the insight of the documentary, dance lovers will enjoy the generous helping of dance scenes, particularly the outdoor performance in a thunder storm at the beginning. And although personal story is not the point of this movie, the depiction of the relationship between the characters played by Neve Campbell (the dancer) and James Franco (the chef) is wonderful. The scene of their first meeting is a joy to watch – she is playing pool by herself and really enjoying it while he, a drink in hand, regards her somewhat stoically at a distance. The two of them are depicted in so many angles, sometimes in the same frame, sometimes separately. This scene is so mesmerizing that you'll forget the passage of time. At long last, they make eye contact and smile. Then, a cut to the next morning in her apartment when they are just waking up, as he offers to cook breakfast for them. An absolutely beautiful sequence.Campbell and Franco are simply wonderful. The icon of the movie, however, is artistic director of the company Alberto Antonelli , generally known as "Mr A", who comes off larger than life with the flare of Malcolm McDowell, who undoubted is remembered best from "A clockwork orange".To people who have experienced the joy of stage performance, even in a very modest way of an amateur choir or theatre group, there is the bonus of additional empathy – the sometimes not so smooth rehearsals, the panic as the performance approaches and nothing seems to work, the last minute jitters before curtain, the final jubilation when everything miraculously falls into place and the sincere applause of the audience. Such empathy!