Dancing on Glass Movie Review: Extreme, thought-provoking, and frightening

Dancing on Glass (Las niñas de cristal) finds itself somewhere along the spectrum of Black Swan and Whiplash. Maybe not as darkly intense as those aforementioned titles, but its story speaks to a larger truth surrounding the performing arts, or the arts, in general, where, the highest level can be a desolate and torturous place.

Director: Jota Linares 
Cast: María Pedraza, Paula Losada, Mona Martínez, Marta Hazas 
Streaming On: Netflix 

The quest for perfection is a daunting one, requiring the artist or performer to become one with the form. It may appear spectacular on the outside, to a rapturous audience, but what the individual endures behind the scenes is rarely understood. Dancing on Glass has ballet and those who perform it at the top-most level as its central subject. The Spanish dance production company at the head of the film counts itself as one of the best around, being headed by a veteran, old-school taskmaster in Norma (Mona Martínez). For someone like her, the artistic act is everything. She is willing to go to any lengths to extract a worthy performance onstage from her chosen ballerina. Problematic? Sure! Psychologically damaging? Sure! Coaches, mentors, and guides cut out of the same fabric maintain that only such methods make one the best. The operative question here is, at what cost?

Maria, the principal ballerina for the dance production of Giselle, takes her own life during an untimely visit to the States. Her death is shrouded in mystery back home in Spain. Irene (María Pedraza) makes for an unexpected replacement for the leading role, leaving a majority of the troupe stunned. Ruth, who everyone assumes would have taken over, is given the cold shoulder. The requirements of the performance begin taking a physical and mental toll on Irene, even as she looks to fellow reluctant dancer, Aurora (Paula Losada), for comfort.

With an unrelenting Norma breathing down her neck, seemingly envious peers everywhere, and a family who doesn’t quite understand what’s really at stake, Aurora becomes Irene’s only safe space. Aurora has a cross of her own to bear. Her mother, a former ballerina herself, lives vicariously through her, wishing for her daughter all that she was unable to achieve. Irene and Aurora are a case of opposites attracting, the former extroverted and the latter introverted. Both are equally mindful of the dangers that come with such a demanding profession. They share much complication and intensity. Aurora teaches her friend a trick to dancing without pressure, dancing by blotting out the external entirely, a technique that works for her.

Dancing on Glass throws up more than a complex set of subjects to mull over. Tyrannical mentors going one step too far to bring out the absolute best in their wards, pushy parents living out their unfulfilled dreams through their children, friendship being the only real happy place, being a few, but the overwhelming one is the individual sacrifice required to perform art at the highest level. Through all the rigorous training/rehearsals (and unhealthy weight-management regimens) and the magical ballet routines, the film does not refrain from asking you that all-pervasive question: is it worth it, in the end? María Pedraza and Paula Losada give the film depth and vulnerability through their respective roles.

The characters’ challenges are different, but one’s understanding of the other makes them whole. Norma views the close bond as a distraction and attempts to isolate her star dancer in the guise of protection. Mona Martínez’s steely and cold performance comes together in a powerful scene where her character is confronted by Irene’s angry mother. The latter believes that Norma’s militant methods are destroying her daughter in the same way they did Maria. “Your daughter knew how I was from day one. The whole company knows. That’s why they give their all to be a part of it. They know we are making them better here. Art must be an obsession. Otherwise, it isn’t art…It’s entertainment, and we’re not here to entertain. We have the monkeys at the zoo for that,” she says, with a frigid, unblinking look.

That one exchange tells you all you need to know about her as a teacher, and the standards she aspires to set. Uncompromising and frightening in equal measure! Her antiheroic portrayal may not quite match up to JK Simmons’ terrifying Terence Fletcher from Whiplash, but it does make a searing impression. Whether these methods are right or not, how far one is willing to be pushed for the sake of their art, how much a person is willing to let go for the pursuit of perfection, are all pertinent questions that will, no doubt, be debated forever.

Dancing on Glass poses them in a plausible manner and forces you to think about the state of the artistic world. For that, it deserves much credit!