The Company Review

Languid, improvisational and determinedly undramatic, Robert Altman's new film about the lives and loves of a Chicago ballet company proves yet again that the director of "M*A*S*H" and "Gosford Park" makes movies like no-one else. Not for him the clichéd build up to the climactic big number or a hackneyed story of a love affair played out in front of the lime-lights. Instead, Altman opts for an almost plotless approach where almost all of the expected major scenes are played off-stage: the love affair between Neve Campbell's up-and-coming dancer Ry and a fellow prancer finishes before the opening credits and the painful recovery of an injured principal is only shown by the appearance of a plaster cast on her leg. Instead of such obvious drama, the audience is treated to vignettes from the dancers' chaotic, everyday lives studded by their beautifully ordered performances on stage, simply but brilliantly filmed.

While some may find Altman's characteristically perverse approach infuriating, you'd be a hard, hard soul not to be moved by some of the stunning live performances or, indeed, entertained by Malcolm McDowell's gloriously camp ballet director. And although the bizarre final performance stretched even this reviewer's powers of concentration - at one point, jumping bushes start to bounce across the stage - "The Company" is worth seeing alone for the most spine-tingly sensational scene of the year yet: Campbell's open-air pas-de-deux in the midst of a thunderstorm. Unmissable.