The international language of ballet was tested in the early 1980s when a dancer from a small town in China, Li Cunxin, got a chance to perform a short-term contract in the U.S.
When the larger world of ballet beckoned, the short-time contract threatened to become a defection, and a Cold War incident followed.
Li wrote a memoir about the affair, which has become “Mao’s Last Dancer,” an old-fashioned film about art, diplomacy and love. Maybe a little too much about love — the material becomes soap opera too easily — and not enough about diplomacy.
Location shooting in China gives a sense of the world Li was leaving: his humble rural beginnings (the usually glamorous Joan Chan plays his peasant mother, a piece of casting that takes some getting used to) and the world of the Beijing Dance Academy that was a pet project of Chairman Mao’s wife.
Li as a young man is played by Chi Cao, a real-life dancer for the Birmingham Royal Ballet. An enterprising Houston ballet director (Bruce Greenwood) arranges for the stateside contract, and Li’s initial experiences in Texas are a predictable blend of cultural confusion and dazzle.
The U.S. isn’t the capitalist hellhole he’d been led to believe, and Li becomes close to another dancer (Amanda Schull). Clearly, the ballet world beyond the Communist realm might offer undreamed-of opportunities.
Screenwriter Jan Sardi, who wrote another artistic biopic, “Shine,” moves some of the drama to the legal machinations of how Li might defect. Kyle MacLachlan turns up as an attorney spearheading the effort against a Chinese government that is not amused.
The true story’s a good one, and in a generous mood “Mao’s Last Dancer” goes by with ease enough (the audience at the Seattle International Film Festival this year gave it the runner-up slot in the “favorite movie” awards). But it must be pointed out that the generally flat approach and the black-and-white issues tend to keep the picture at a TV movie level.
Can’t argue with Chi Cao in the lead role; there’s plenty of dancing, which he does superbly, and his acting presence is pleasant and unforced.
The old pro director Bruce Beresford (“Driving Miss Daisy”) should get some credit for that performance, and for the general good vibes. I wish the film’s pleasures were contained in a tighter package.
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