Antonius Block The story of a young ballerina (Moira Shearer) and young composer (Marius Goring) being accepted into a ballet company and then working their way up by demonstrating their skills to an irascible producer (Anton Walbrook) is decent in its own right, and the first half of this film gives us a 'behind the scenes' look into the making of a ballet, with a set of charming supporting characters. What sets the film apart, however, is the actual production of the ballet, which directors Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger give us in a visually stunning extended sequence, using various film effects to enhance its dreamy feeling. You don't have to be a lover of ballet to appreciate the artistic beauty of these scenes, and it's no wonder the film won Oscars for Best Art Direction and Best Score. Shearer being asked to choose between a husband and a career may be a little maddening and sound familiar to women, but the demand is not from her husband, it's from her producer. The ballet shoes that she puts on which promise worldwide fame are a bit of a Faustian bargain, with Walbrook's character Mephistopheles. It gets a bit melodramatic as it plays out, but it's always entertaining. Strong performances, strong direction, and fantastic artistry.

nqure British cinema often gets criticised for its so-called narrow milieu, be it historical/period dramas, feel-good comedies, social realism & gangster films. The films of Powell & Pressburger stand apart, distinctive in the English canon, the artistic marriage in this post-Brexit age of an English maverick (eccentric individualism) to the European sensibility of the émigré Pressburger. Their retinue (such as the cinematography of Jack Cardiff) produced films that are imaginative, passionate, full of dramatic power & beauty. What struck me about 'The Red Shoes', their wonderful modern take on Andersen's tragic fairy-tale, is how ravishing it must have looked to a post-war audience worn down by war & still enduring rationing. A film cannot fill an empty stomach, but the cinematography, the bright colours & exotic locales must have been a feast for the eyes, art as both escapism & entertainment.The story is elegantly structured with the ballet segment 'The Red Shoes', a stand-alone piece on its own as entertainment but which reflects the story set in the present (Lermontov as the shoe-maker who entices the girl to wear the red shoes, the circus represents international fame). Vicky & Julian are introduced, both overcoming initial obstacles to their dreams, then begin to impress the stern task-master Lermontov before fate offers them a chance to finally realise their ambitions.'The Red Shoes' is the story of a young woman who dreams of becoming a celebrated ballerina, though in the background hovers the whisper of 'be careful what you wish for'. It is the story of Vicky's relationship with two men & the eventual conflict which sees them wrest for control of her.Lermontov (Anton Walbrook) is a fascinating character, portrayed as darkly charismatic, detached & cynical, an aesthete, a Diaghilev-svengali type of figure, who runs a world famous ballet company. He is obsessed with art to the point that he demands absolute loyalty to its precepts, even to the extreme where he denies the human, which, in itself, is a contradiction because art is in itself the deepest expression of the self, of our selves & what it is to be human. He is a control freak (the miniature ballet stage on his desk in Paris), one of the ballets referenced in a montage is 'Coppelia' based on Hoffmann, a tale about a diabolical inventor & his mechanical doll. Vicky, too, makes a diabolical pact with the Mephistophelian Lermontov as he & his travelling ballet company casts its spell over her. It will also demand a human sacrifice (Rites of Spring). In the same Paris office, a slightly sinister plaster-cast sculpture of a ballerina's foot anticipates the tragic ending.Julian Craster, in a less obvious way, also mistreats Vicky. He is impetuous & passionate, perhaps representing the emotions. Together, Craster & Lermontov produce a masterpiece & platform for Vicky's talent. After his marriage to Vicky, he returns to his work as he cannot resist the creative impulse, but fails to realise that she, too, has a need for self-expression. Both Lermontov & Craster deny Vicky her individuality: the first views her as his creation, demanding absolute loyalty, the other views her as his muse, subservient to his wishes.The ending is poignant, the ghostly last performance of 'The Red Shoes' & Vicky's final haunting request.

katyhun The technicolour cinematography was outstanding.My only complaint would be that the performance of The Red Shoes in the middle went on too long, and as someone who isn't too big on ballet I got bored during this scene.Characters were really well developed and the performances were great. Extremely well written film. The ending was quite shocking to be honest, didn't really see coming. It felt very modern for a film made in 1948 as well, not dated at all.I'd easily give this a 9/10, and perhaps on a rewatch maybe a RARE tg-esque 10/10!

Dalbert Pringle Dance. Dance. Dance.... Twirl. Twirl. Twirl.... Tippy-Toe. Tippy-Toe. Tippy-Toe.Yeah. Yeah. I know that The Red Shoes was "just-a-movie", but, all the same, I'd still boldly go so far as to say that lurking behind its enticing, Technicolor facade lay something of a dire warning.And, like a flashing red light, that warning was definitely cautioning all aspiring, starstruck, prima ballerinas to give up the ultimate thrill of a pirouette, and be prepared to quickly snag a husband and make do with that suburban home with the white picket-fence.In other words, girls, ballet can kill you (seriously), like it did Vicky Page - So get out while you can! Believe me, once Vicky Page donned those infernal red shoes she (like a candle in the wind) was jinxed and dogged with more troubles than was Dorothy Gale (sporting the ruby slippers) in the Land of Oz.Regardless of being quite a sumptuous production, I still found The Red Shoes (with all of its backstage dramas, catty jealousies and obsessive lunacy) to be something of a bore. It didn't help matters much that, at 134 minutes, its story seemed to drag on forever, and a day.If you've already seen Darren Aronofsky's 2011 production of Black Swan (which didn't thrill me much either), then it couldn't be plainer than the nose on your face that his dreary, little movie was nothing more than a big, bloated rip-off of The Red Shoes.