For all its well-paced suspense and whodunit allure, The Dancer Upstairs will attract attention for its acclaimed director, John Malkovich. The veteran actor makes his directorial debut in a feature film rife with action and political undertones, letting the camera soak up every tension-laden scene. But remember that Hollywood is watching — and Hollywood likes action.
Set in an ambiguous Latin American country, The Dancer Upstairs — opening May 2 — is based on the Nicholas Shakespeare novel of the same name (Shakespeare wrote the screenplay). While the novel identifies the troubled country as Peru, Malkovich is happy to “tell a true story as though it were fiction,” as he says. The characters are more important to the film’s whole and he sets the scene early: an idealistic policeman Agustin Rejas, played by Oscar-nominated Javier Bardem from Before Night Falls, ignores his corrupt colleagues while seeking an honest living. When a promotion leads him to the capital, and to more dangerous assignments, Rejas faces a challenge meant to test his mental and physical fiber. A mysterious guerilla leader Ezequiel is sparking a revolution that reverberates violently in all corners of the city: dogs are killed and hung on lampposts, with anti-government signs dangling off their collars; suicide bombers kill dozens in cafes and restaurants; and an avant-garde “theatre group” murders the Minister of the Interior during a performance, all to proclaim “Viva presidente Ezequiel!”
The onus lies on Rejas and his motley crew of crime-busters to find out who Ezekiel is and where he may be hiding. But as Rejas fights family responsibilities with his policing duties, he discovers how delicate the situation can be — especially when his daughter’s dance teacher becomes directly involved.
Wait a second. A cop has to juggle family in the middle of his most challenging investigation. A friend entangles herself in the revolutionary mess. The Dancer Upstairs isn’t carving new territory with this whodunit, but I doubt it intended to create a fresh breath of viewing pleasure. Instead, Malkovich and Shakespeare create a potent suspense flick designed to explore the emotional depths of a man torn from all sides. Additionally, Latin American turmoil comes under the microscope from delicate camera work Malkovich will soon be praised for.
The capital’s scab-brown roads and storefronts depict a world in disrepair. A boy’s frightened eyes, coupled with his confession of “I am dead already,” fleshes out the anxiety man or child faces. When the guerilla uprising unleashes schoolgirls wielding Uzi machine guns, and dynamite-toting dogs, the violence shows more than boiling anger; Malkovich captures the frustration of repression, the pain of the same. Only in documentaries has Latin American despair been so deftly portrayed.
Bardem returns in a role his face was meant for: the eyes glisten angrily when he’s told his investigation has been reassigned to the government-led military; the mouth eagerly inches toward a woman’s lips he’s forbidden to kiss; and the brow furrows in a concentrated expression that is far from cliché method acting.
Opposite Bardem, the dance teacher Yolanda, played by Laura Morante, evokes a soulful longing best characterized in her interpretive dance. While the romantic scenes between Morante and Bardem could sizzle a bit more, Morante alone flaunts a sexiness framed by a body balancing on a tightrope of fear.
Since the film is intended for mass distribution — despite an absence of trippy special effects or A-list actors — the hook has to be the suspense. It delivers wonderfully, pulling the viewer in during the search for the influential Ezekiel. And don’t we all like a good explosion once every 10 minutes? The Dancer Upstairs has its fair share of gore and bombings, although the horror isn’t gratuitous — it provides the evidence for the revolution the public seemingly desires.
Malkovich must have been remembering some movie lore for this film, since even the lulls during the action are comfortably familiar, like CD scratches in known places: Rejas pulls a Superman and seeks counsel at his birthplace village. A righteous police officer shakes his head at corruption and swears to make a difference, à la Serpico.
The Dancer Upstairs has the feel of an indecisive film: it wants to be nail-biting crime-drama, a romantic liaison thrown in for measure, but it also wants to explore the underbelly of Latin American rebellion and dissolution. An hour-and-a-half is too tight a time limit for such far-reaching ideals. Instead, the film eases into Hollywood conventions seamlessly. Only those hunting for an outside-the-box trend-setting Malkovich masterpiece will be disappointed.
