Creature
Asif Kapadia turns to the world of dance to set new standards in its sphere.
If ever a film made the rating system seem ridiculous, it is this one. I say that because Creature is both a triumph and subject to what for many may well count as a fatal flaw. But before elaborating on that I must first clarify what kind of a work this is. The title could well imply that it was a horror film – and, indeed, it shares the same kind of Arctic base setting that was used in that well-known movie of the early 1950s The Thing from Another World. However, what we have here is a modern ballet film, an adaptation for the screen of a work created by Akram Khan for English National Ballet whose artists now perform it in this filmed version directed by none other than Asif Kapadia.
Let's look at the positive aspects first. Kapadia has surprised us before given that his first feature The Warrior (2001) was a highly successful drama which would never have led one to anticipate that its director and co-writer would subsequently achieve his greatest fame to date as a great director of documentaries. One of them, 2015’s Amy, was a biopic of a singer, but his other subjects have been Senna (2010) and Diego Maradona (2019) so there was no special reason to expect music to be a central feature again. In any case contemporary ballet is miles away from pop songs, so Creature arrives out of the blue. Being a screen version of a piece designed for the stage and for the most part taking place in a single interior set, one might expect something that was only a minor advance on the films which, often photographed in a theatre, could at least claim to bring ballet to the masses unable to attend the real thing even though in cinematic terms they had little of note to offer. Creature is the absolute opposite of that.
I don't know how closely this version adheres to the choreography designed for the stage by Akram Khan. Nor am I clear as to whether or not the original score by Vincenzo Lamagna is heard exactly as before. What is apparent at once is that Kapadia, opting for the widescreen, has given us a work that is pure cinema. It even opens with a close-up shot and then proceeds to apply the full range of cinematic images fluently – long shots, medium shots, camera movement and editing which must have involved the closest collaboration between Kapadia and his editor Sylvie Landra. The visual impact is such that one feels that Creature is a film that cries out to be seen on the big screen and – a crucial point this – whether or not changes have been made Khan’s choreography seems here to be utterly in sync with what the camera is doing just as though it was designed specifically for this medium.
That would be striking enough in itself but even more than that is achieved. Sound design is another factor that is crucial, both in terms of the impact of the music and in the use of sounds generally, sounds that are engineered to surround the viewer in the auditorium. Indeed, the music grows out of this including what could be an alarm call and before long the score as played by the English National Ballet Philharmonic reaches a pitch that confronts us to the extent that, lashing out at times as it does, it reminds one of Stravinsky’s ‘The Rite of Spring’. The score is, however, capable of changing tone for more intimate moments and rather bizarrely one section of the film appears to be built up on a somewhat distorted and rearranged version of Ravel's ‘Bolero’! But the key point here is that equal weight is given to all these elements – the dance itself, the cinematic treatment and the intense emphasis on what we hear on the soundtrack. It turns any viewing of Creature into an engulfing experience, the sort of thing more likely to happen if at all in a theatre rather than in a cinema. In bringing everything together in this way Kapadia has given us a dance film so different from any other that one feels that in shaping this piece for the cinema he has come close to creating a new art form.
If that was the end of the story, this film would get a five-star review, but story is indeed the thing that brings one up short. In a theatre one might have a programme note that would at least inform you of the basic idea behind a ballet like this. As a film critic I approached the screening of it with no more than hints. The publicity referred to the Arctic location and suggested that the work had been influenced by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and by Georg Büchner’s play Woyzeck (the latter being known to me not in that form but through Alban Berg’s remarkable opera based on it). The central figure is Jeffrey Cirio’s Creature who is the toy of the military figures in the research station, but while he is victimised any closer links to the monster created by Frankenstein seem limited indeed. As an alien figure he evokes pity more than fear (think The Shape of Water rather than The Thing from Another World) but, in contrast to Berg’s opera, the narrative remains opaque. The only words are ones heard without any direct connection to the characters. They indicate that we are in the space age since there is praise for astronauts involved in the moon landing and repeated references follow expressing pride in men and developing the notion that the wider universe would benefit from man’s arrival there given his achievements on Earth.
What we do see happening is all too vague: the corps de ballet could represent either soldiers or robots and, while we can identify an unpleasant major (Fabian Reimar) and a more sympathetic captain (Ken Saruhashi), the other figures lack the detail and clarity of their equivalents in Woyzeck. Creature does fall in love with a cleaner named Marie (Erina Takahashi) but, whereas Büchner portrayed this relationship in detail and over time leading to violence and madness, this is so telescoped here as to have very limited impact. Meanwhile, there is a blonde (Stina Quagebeur) linked to the hostile forces, but it is not too apparent until late on that with a change of sex she represents the doctor of the original play. Indeed, the personal drama remains too indistinct and underdeveloped for us to feel the tragedy - and that’s so even if what Creature experiences does bring out the irony of men from Earth supposedly having something of value to offer in the wider universe. There are yet other echoes that can be picked up here from Fritz Lang's Metropolis to a close-up image of a mouth that brings to mind the world of Samuel Beckett. But so much is confusing that after 87 minutes many audiences will emerge feeling exhausted and adrift despite the undoubted quality of the dancers. Technically the artistry behind Creature is remarkable and renders it significant in cinema history, but as a piece of storytelling through dance it will surely disappoint far more people than it will impress.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Jeffrey Cirio, Stina Quagebeur, Erina Takahashi, Ken Saruhashi, Fabian Reimar, Victor Prigent, and the voice of Andy Serkis.
Dir Asif Kapadia, Pro Uzma Hasan, Ph Daniel Landin, Ed Sylvie Landra, Music Vincenzo Lamagna, Costumes Tim Yip, Choreography Akram Khan.
English National Ballet/Little House Productions-BFI.
87 mins. UK. 2022. UK Rel: 24 February 2023. Cert. 12A.
