Australia,
2001, 92 min
Shown in 2002
CREDITS
OTHER
COMMENTS
Paul Cox in person.In 1918 the famed Russian dancer Vaslav Nijinsky suffered a mental breakdown and recorded his struggles in his notebooks. Director Paul Cox, who earlier used Vincent van Gogh’s letters to his brother Theo as source material for his exceptional Vincent, here brings the despair of another great artist to life. Nijinsky, like van Gogh, found a particular kind of communion with the world. We never see the artist, we only hear his words, read here with great sensitivity by Derek Jacobi. To accompany the words Cox uses visuals that are poetic, associative, interior and nonlinear. The range of imagery is heightened by the confessions that come from Nijinsky—and to supplement these sequences, Cox recreates scenes from some of the ballets, most famously a restaging of Debussy’s Afternoon of a Fawn. Still, Nijinksy reveals himself most forcefully through the words that flow like a stream from his pen. Necessarily kaleidoscopic and impressionistic, Cox’s technique allows him to avoid the pitfalls of the biographical portrait and create a much more profound, hesitant picture of his subject, a man who described himself as being “a man of motion, not immobility”—perhaps Cox’s own image of himself, but also a prescription for what the cinema should be.
—Piers Handling, Toronto International Film Festival