The Boy Friend (1971)

It’s rather clever of Ken Russell to adapt The Boy Friend for the cinema in such a way as to allow the viewer to peek backstage – so that we get to see the people behind the performances. It also means that he has free rein to engage in flights of fantasy that are far beyond the means of any theatre.

Ken Russell (centre) directs Christopher Gable and Twiggy

The movie epitomises that integral show-must-go-on ethos: performances replete with wide eyes and big smiles, even if all is not well off stage.

The cast is uniformly excellent. It would be invidious to pick out any one performer in particular because there are no weak links. However, I’m going to do it, anyway.

Antonia Ellis is totally on her A-game as limelight-hogging ‘Maisie’, who sees herself as the real star of the troupe.

Tommy Tune and The Boy Friend’s ‘other’ leading lady, Antonia Ellis

And Christopher Gable is utterly winning as ‘Tony Brockhurst’. His charismatic performance typifies stagecraft at its very best, and the fact that he was instrumental in the film’s mesmerising choreography speaks to his undoubted artistic abilities.

Christopher Gable and Twiggy – tripping the light fantastic

There’s even an extended cameo from Glenda Jackson who, despite limited screen time, goes through a satisfying character arc.

Glenda Jackson – more than just a cameo

It’s great to see actors who, later in life, became defined by a single character or genre, such as Brian Murphy. It’s easy to forget that many of these people are/were very talented performers, capable of doing all manner of thesping.

Tommy Tune, Graham Armitage, Antonia Ellis, Brian Murphy and Murray Melvin – all important members of a fine ensemble cast

Dancer in the Dark (2000)

It could be argued that musicals serve as a form of distraction from the pain of real life, which is certainly the case for hard-working, near-blind Selma (Björk), a Czech émigré who finds herself living somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. It’s the 1960s and she is saving every cent she earns so that her 13-year-old son Gene (Vladica Kostic) can benefit from surgery that will save his sight (he shares the same congenital condition as his mother).

It’s the musical genre of cinema, in particular, that brings Selma succour, making it possible for her to bear her challenging day-to-day existence. She’s fond of Busby Berkeley routines and the work of song-and-dance man Oldřich Nový (Joel Grey), for example. In addition to long, intense factory shifts, she’s rehearsing the part of Maria in an amateur dramatic production of The Sound of Music. However, her passion for songs, music and dancing can only blot out the harshnesses of the real world up to a point.

For every performer, there must always be a final curtain, which may drop at any time.

Selma is a beautiful soul so it’s terribly cruel that she is forced to suffer mishap upon mishap. She avers, ”In a musical, nothing dreadful ever happens.” She also sings, ”There’s always someone to catch me.” Sadly, actuality is not always quite so inclined to oblige.

I’m not sure what motivated Lars Von Trier to make this film, which is a simultaneously uplifting and bleak viewing experience but I’m not unhappy that he did. Okay, it made me feel unhappy but that’s a different thing entirely.

Dancer in the Dark is most certainly a musical but it’s also an anti-musical, in that it goes against the general ethos of the form. Really, the film probably shouldn’t work – and, apparently for many, it doesn’t. However, I can only speak for myself and say that I was thoroughly moved by what is at once a magically escapist and desperately tragic slice of cinema.