The Red Shoes

Studio: The Criterion Collection

Dec 16, 2021 Web Exclusive By Joey Arnone

Forever raising the bar for dance films while directly influencing innumerable films within the genre, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s 1948 landmark The Red Shoes is one of a handful of movies that could be considered a cinematic game changer. Based on a fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen, the film’s story is deceptively simple, but a cleverly-crafted screenplay, multi-dimensional performances, and perhaps the most beautiful cinematography ever put onto celluloid elevate this film from being standard melodrama to one of the most revered cinematic works of the 20th century.

As seen in the sumptuous opening credit sequence, which reads almost as if it were the opening to a libretto, the high aesthetic and artistic ambitions of Powell and Pressburger (known collectively as The Archers) are on full display before the film even begins. In the vein of ballet being considered the highest form of art, the directorial duo pull no punches in making this fable of a doomed ballerina one of the most aesthetically beautiful films of all time. Described by author Sloane Crosley as “not merely a movie but an indelible imagination tattoo,” the film is a phantasmagoria of color, music, and bodies, dreamily portraying a whirlwind of artists in the creative process, looking to achieve the extreme in art.

The Red Shoes’ centerpiece is of course the much lauded 17-minute Ballet of the Red Shoes dance sequence that lies right in the center of the film, essentially splitting the film into two main narrative acts. Having this narrative schism certainly highlights the Archers’ mastery in storytelling and world-building in the film’s first half, as the protagonists’ individual storylines, that of aspiring professional ballerina Victoria Page (Moira Shearer) and composer Julian Craster (Marius Goring), intersect in such a fascinating and clever way as they become entangled in the web of ballet impresario Boris Lermontov (Anton Walbrook).

In a star-making performance, Shearer shines in her role as Victoria. At the time a professional ballet dancer with no acting experience, Shearer initially turned the role down, but after Powell and Pressburger’s insistence on her being in the film, she eventually agreed a whole year later. It’s quite difficult to imagine anyone else in this role, as she provides much of the iconic imagery that many associate with the film—her bright red hair, which perfectly match the titular shoes that seal her fate in the central ballet sequence and the film’s climax, as well as her childlike, expressive face, which is featured on the film’s iconic Criterion artwork. Her command of the screen is truly one of a kind, and is matched only by Walbrook as the brooding Lermontov.

Lermontov’s domineering presence and seeming cold-heartedness place his character under a traditional archetype, as are all the main characters given the source material, but Walbrook gives him an abundance of nuance merely through the subtleties of his facial expressions and body language. What could have been an easy-to-dislike and one-note character is given enormous dimension through the slightest of gestures, revealing a vulnerable and enigmatic man who isn’t nearly as easy to pin down as one might think.

An assortment of other colorful performances from professional ballet dancers round out the cast, including Ludmilla Tchérina as the emphatic Irina Boronskaya and Léonide Massine as Grischa Ljubov, with the latter providing a truly one-of-a-kind screen presence—his humorously eccentric yet campishly creepy presence feels as if it could have been the inspiration for the sassy piano player in Dario Argento’s Suspiria.

The Red Shoes not only left an indelible mark on the dance film genre (Hollywood musicals such as An American in Paris and Singin’ in the Rain would later follow in the film’s footsteps by incorporating extended dance sequences with extravagant costumes and set designs), but also stands as the ultimate cinematic depiction of the agony and ecstasy of being an artist. It is a portrait of art becoming inextricable from one’s existence, a blessing and a curse—something liberating when one creates something beautiful, but also a scourge when one is forced to practice with dogmatic diligence, as creativity is only half the work, and the other half is complete and utter physical and mental devotion. The film’s frenetic finale cleverly showcases life imitating art, but it also serves as a beautifully haunting illustration of complete self-destruction in the quest for obtaining artistic perfection.

If there’s one film from the Criterion Collection deserving of a 4K release, this would certainly have to be it. Jack Cardiff’s painterly and mesmerizing cinematography is on full display, as the digital restoration work done on the film provides stunningly detailed clarity and sumptuous saturation to those one-of-a-kind Technicolor hues. The exterior Monte Carlo scenes in particular are nothing short of breathtaking—it makes one long for the days of Technicolor, as the colors in this film have truly never quite been replicated through any other modern film process, and viewing it in 4K does it complete justice.

This edition also comes with all of the special features present on the previous Blu-ray edition, most notably the audio commentary, which features interviews with Shearer, Goring, Cardiff, composer Brian Easdale, and Martin Scorsese, who spearheaded the film’s restoration. There is also an interesting interview with Thelma Schoonmaker, Powell’s widow and Scorsese’s long-time film editor, along with a documentary featuring interviews with the production crew of the film, including Cardiff. The special features serve to highlight the complete dedication of everyone involved in the making of The Red Shoes, providing a wonderful supplementary experience for one of the finest works of art ever committed to celluloid.

(www.criterion.com/films/233-the-red-shoes)

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