Biopic of the iconoclastic dancer Isadora Duncan. Set in the last year of her life in the South of France, with flashbacks to her earlier years, each focusing on a different lover (but by no means all of them, and a little disappointing that the mores of the time probably prevented portrayal of her homosexual relationships).
I have known about this film since I saw as a kid the famous still of the accident that caused her death, and have wanted to see it ever since. Even more so when I found out that she was married to Russian poet Sergei Esenin.
I adore Vanessa Redgrave, and with two reservations - that she doesn't really look much like Duncan (while being characteristically gorgeous and watchable) and her unconvincing American accent - she gives a wrenching and believable performance as the histrionic dancer whose grip on reality becomes increasingly tenuous as tragedies and disappointments accumulate. It would have been so easy to overplay this role, but Redgrave gives it just the right touch of passion and neurosis without ever descending into melodrama.
I know nothing about dance, but Redgrave's dancing performances totally convinced me, and for that alone she deserved her Oscar nomination. It must have taken an incredible amount of work and preparation from her, in addition to learning dialogue in convincingly accented French, German and Russian.
In many of her movies, Redgrave's hair is a character on its own, and this one is no exception. I think that that was one of the things that didn't gel for me in the movie: as beautiful as it is, it became intrusive. I think she was cast partly on the basis of her glorious mane aside from her acting talent, but it is superfluous to the action and it doesn't fit with my idea of Isadora Duncan.
Despite its weaknesses as a big-budget, big-name movie of its time, it still deserves to be more widely known and viewed.
