In Benjamin Button there is some good ballet, in this the ballet is sublime. The cinematography is fantastic, each shot a crystal clear work of art. However I didn't expect quite so much ballet and the acting is a bit theatrical. Beautiful rather than compelling.
The plot of Powell and Pressburger's critically adored ballet film takes freely from the Warner Brothers' musicals of the thirties, with the ingenue (Moira Shearer) unexpectedly taking over the lead role in the dance of The Red Shoes while being driven obsessively by her autocratic Svengali (Anton Walbrook). She's gotta come back a star!
It gave back a depth of craft and fantasy which transformed the Hollywood musicals of the fifties. The pinnacle is the staging of The Red Shoes folk tale as a ballet, with Shearer compelled to dance to her death; just as she, and Walbrook, are destructively consumed by their art. Michael Powell said the megalomaniacal impresario was based on Alexander Korda!
The look is intoxicating, from the painted backdrops to the costumes. But most of all, Jack Cardiff's glorious Technicolor. Shearer's vivid red hair was a gift. More so than her acting. All the dancers came from ballet and were not actors, but their natural theatrical egotism actually makes them believable. Brian Easdale's famous score won the Oscar.
This is a vast and complex production. The Red Shoes will be loved more by those who appreciate ballet, which I don't. But it is also an extravagantly imaginative and creative expansion of the Hans Christian Anderson story. It's this ambition to dream much larger, which makes the film special, and so influential.