GISELLE (2013)
As cinema attendance continues to fall both at home and abroad, distributors and exhibitors are always searching for the next thing to draw people into their increasingly expensive theatres. The last several years has seen a rise in the volume of ‘alternative content’, most notably recorded or occasionally live-broadcast performances of theatrical productions from outfits like the Met Opera.
Toa Fraser’s Giselle fits pretty comfortably in this category, being chiefly a recorded performance of Jules-Henri Vernoy de Saint-Georges and Théophile Gautier’s famed ballet, however Fraser injects a little more cinematic flair into the piece. Scattering a handful of cameras around the theatre to capture varying degrees of distance, Fraser for the most part lets the performers do the work, and they don’t disappoint.
So little does Fraser do in fact that talking about the filmmaking on display is more or less redundant. The ballet itself is rather impressive however, even for someone with little knowledge or experience with the art form. The story, told entirely through beautifully choreographed action, is simple enough that the key elements come across clearly, a two-act tale of the doomed love of Giselle (Gillian Murphy) and Albrecht (Qi Huan). The first half tells of their meeting, their brief romance and it’s tragic end, while the much stronger second half is a moody, spectral torment, featuring evocative lighting, costume and makeup and some downright haunting imagery.
Toa Fraser’s Giselle fits pretty comfortably in this category, being chiefly a recorded performance of Jules-Henri Vernoy de Saint-Georges and Théophile Gautier’s famed ballet, however Fraser injects a little more cinematic flair into the piece. Scattering a handful of cameras around the theatre to capture varying degrees of distance, Fraser for the most part lets the performers do the work, and they don’t disappoint.
So little does Fraser do in fact that talking about the filmmaking on display is more or less redundant. The ballet itself is rather impressive however, even for someone with little knowledge or experience with the art form. The story, told entirely through beautifully choreographed action, is simple enough that the key elements come across clearly, a two-act tale of the doomed love of Giselle (Gillian Murphy) and Albrecht (Qi Huan). The first half tells of their meeting, their brief romance and it’s tragic end, while the much stronger second half is a moody, spectral torment, featuring evocative lighting, costume and makeup and some downright haunting imagery.
If there’s a complaint to be made about the almost invisible filmmaking of Giselle it lies in the editing of the footage. Some of the cuts are a little too quick, occasionally making it difficult to really appreciate the performance, but when Fraser does allow a shot to linger or chooses to pan rather than simply cut to another angle it really stands out.
Interestingly, Fraser has chosen to take Giselle out of the theatre at a few chosen moments throughout the performance, dropping in airy, Malick-esque fragments to heighten the emotional engagement for his audience. Most of these are brief and narratively loose - and sadly don’t add a lot to the whole experience - however one extended cutaway sequence of Murphy and Huan in their rehearsal room is very well placed to heighten the bond of the star-cross’d lovers.
Try as it might, this filmed version Giselle simply cannot compete with the experience of seeing a live performance, however perhaps that’s not the goal. For some, Fraser’s work here might be a gateway to a world they are unfamiliar with, a world clearly close to the filmmaker’s own heart. It’s unlikely to provide much of interest for those steadfast in their opposition to something like ballet, but for people perhaps looking for something different, Giselle is worth a shot.
Interestingly, Fraser has chosen to take Giselle out of the theatre at a few chosen moments throughout the performance, dropping in airy, Malick-esque fragments to heighten the emotional engagement for his audience. Most of these are brief and narratively loose - and sadly don’t add a lot to the whole experience - however one extended cutaway sequence of Murphy and Huan in their rehearsal room is very well placed to heighten the bond of the star-cross’d lovers.
Try as it might, this filmed version Giselle simply cannot compete with the experience of seeing a live performance, however perhaps that’s not the goal. For some, Fraser’s work here might be a gateway to a world they are unfamiliar with, a world clearly close to the filmmaker’s own heart. It’s unlikely to provide much of interest for those steadfast in their opposition to something like ballet, but for people perhaps looking for something different, Giselle is worth a shot.