91av

Asif Kapadia

On limited release in the UK and Ireland

Ìý

In an isolated research station, lost amid snow and ice, a highly disciplined team of would-be astronauts is putting an experimental animal through its paces. Will the Creature (deliberately left ambiguous so as not to spoil things) survive the tests thrown at it: the cold, the isolation, the asphyxia?

This is a science-fiction ballet (adapted for film) loosely based on 19th-century dramatist Georg Büchner’s play Woyzeck – about the mental deterioration of a soldier so utterly beholden to his commanding officers that he allows them to perform medical experiments on him.

Despite the differences between the play and the ballet, clearly things are not going to end well. A punctilious Doctor (Stina Quagebeur) palpates and measures the Creature, summons handlers and equipment, and calls for urgent aid when it looks as though an experiment has gone too far.

She is meticulous, not malevolent, and when the Major (Fabian Reimair) in charge tears the Creature from its one source of comfort, the station cleaner Marie (Erina Takahashi), and abuses her, the Doctor fears for the whole team.

Jeffrey Cirio plays the Creature in this unusual project from English National Ballet, a collaboration between choreographer Akram Khan and filmmaker Asif Kapadia, who is best known for the documentaries Senna, Amy and Diego Maradona.

It is a grim fable of human ambition and ruthlessness, superbly performed and shot in a way that draws the audience fully into the action. It captures moments of private emotion and the subtlest of gestures without losing any of the spectacle of an ensemble piece.

Creature explores its extreme set-up with tenderness and intelligence, slowly eroding the distinction between a somewhat simian test subject and its hardly less simian handlers. The Creature wants to copy its masters. We don’t have long to wait, however, before they learn to copy the Creature.

Though the hierarchies of this isolated, militaristic society are clear, and the Creature’s expendability is never in doubt, the film holds out the possibility of real communication – even trust and love.

And then, out of nowhere, all that subtle, clever, sensitive work is thrown away. The Captain (Ken Saruhashi), who’s been keeping the Major contained, wanders off into a blizzard for no reason, and the Major (a jaw-droppingly arrogant turn by the dashing Reimair) makes merry hell and gets away with whatever he likes.

Creature wants to be an indictment of cruelty, obedience and power, but its central metaphor will not hold.

First, astronauts are notoriously disobedient. Second, space agencies are chronically underfunded. Really, only the point about cruelty might stick, and even here, I have my reservations.

Do we sacrifice experimental animals to further our research goals?

Certainly, though much less than we used to. And even in the bad old days, these creatures were honoured. Look at the statues to the space dog Laika, or the remains of NASA’s chimp Ham, interred at the International Space Hall of Fame in New Mexico. You can argue that these gestures were insufficient, but I don’t think you can say they were empty.

By the end, did Creature leave me impressed? Thrilled? Moved?

Yes, all three. It also left me feeling aggrieved.ÌýHere I was, preparing to sing the praises of a sci-fi ballet about our difficult relationship with other primates, and what I was left with, at the end, was a by-the-numbers glimpse of how horrid people can be.

It may be that expanding human efforts into outer space is a silly idea, but the show’s censoriousness left me cold. A shame, because the dancing – ironically enough – was out of this world.