The spirit indomitably lingers on, after the unexpected death of German modern dance vanguard Pina Bausch (1940-2009), succumbed to an unstated cancer, days before the official shooting of her documentary, Wim Wenders’s original idea of scrapping the project is sagely dissuaded by the dancers of Tanztheater Wuppertal, Pina’s brainchild in Wuppertal, Germany. And PINA, the resultant documentary pays reverent homage to the late dancer and choreographer, is a warm and inspirational treat for art lovers and cineastes.
Piecing together footages of Pina’s four key works: THE RIT OF SPRING (1975), CAFÉ MÜLLER (1978), COURT OF CONTACT (1978, 2000, 2008) and FULL MOON (2006), PINA also lightly intersperses interviews of Pina’s dancers, collaborators, her protégés to reminisce of her most singular influence on them, each is given an official photoshoot with their succinct, polyglot utterances conveying a potpourri of emotions: self-reflection, gratitude or admiration, not to mention pocketed grief faintly discerned by merely articulating her name. 68 is a gone-too-soon age for an artist so full of life and energy, inspiration and creativity. These four works perfectly encapsulate Pina’s ingenious, avant-garde work ethics and her keen perceptiveness of liberation unleashed by one body’s supple mobility, or two’s interlocking entanglement, or the rousing impact from a collective combo.
Additionally, Wenders also deferentially recreates some solo or duo dances against the industrial vista of Wuppertal, notably for its elevated railway, with vivid palettes, stylish loci and outright bizarre scenarios, Pina’s terpsichorean tenet embraces inclusivity down to the ground (most astonishingly, age is not an impediment). Although, this reviewer misses the chance of viewing it in its original 3D format, what still packs a punch is Wenders’ attuned sense of perception as a filmmaker magnificently dovetails with Pina’s identification as a larger-than-life artiste, by omitting her life story and exclusively sheds the limelight on the works with which she bequeaths us, PINA flouts the art-doc convention of digging deep into the psyche and creativity of its subject, but functions as a loving, tender and sublime commemoration of an artist’s indelible legacy and leaves her personal myth judiciously untapped.
referential entries: Tom Volf’s MARIA BY CALLAS (2017, 7.6/10);Matthew Akers’ MARINA ABRAMOVIC: THE ARTIST IS PRESENT (2012, 6.8/10).
