
At some point in our lives, we all have a dream in which we find ourselves in a strange place without any idea of how we got there, or any indication of the way to escape, and every step forward we take makes us feel more isolated and alone. In the case of Joy Womack, this became a reality when she made the journey from her home in suburban Texas to Moscow, where she would be participating in auditions to become part of the world-renowned Bolshoi Ballet, a company that had never accepted an American, making her journey one with a lot of historical significance. However, she soon comes to realize that there is much more beneath the surface, and she begins to feel even more alone after it becomes clear that she will never be seen as a part of this notoriously selective industry. This is the foundation of Joika, in which director James Napier Robertson sets out to explore the life and career of Womack – who was nicknamed “Joika” by one of her Russian instructors – which proves to be a fascinating story that shows a very different side to the usually tranquil, elegant art of ballet and everything that it represents. A very simple film, but one that still has its moments of being profoundly moving, Joika is a challenging account of the trials and tribulations of its titular character, a woman who simply tried to make a life for herself by pursuing her dream, but found herself disadvantaged merely because of factors outside of her control. Not a particularly well-known director, but still someone with a solid body of work (mostly well-received independent films produced in his native New Zealand) that suggests that he was a decent candidate to helm this film, especially since it was not written to be all that revolutionary, rather following a very specific pattern that makes it slightly more unflattering in terms of narrative nuance, but not enough to entirely derail the film from being viewed as mostly successful in what it aimed to achieve, which was a solid account of this individual and her experiences trying to make a name for herself in a world for which she was somehow hopelessly unprepared.
Joika is a film that is built on a very common concept, which is that of outsiders trying to fit in where they are consistently told they do not belong. Womack’s story is interesting, and while we can imagine there were a dozen different directions in which this film could have gone, it is quite obvious that everything that it represents was the product of taking the most direct approach, which is usually the most reliable even if it isn’t particularly interesting in its own right. Existing somewhere between Whiplash and The Paper Chase in terms of focusing on young prodigies who gradually have their confidence eroded when they are confronted with teachers and mentors whose entire raison d’etre seems to be to break them down until they lose all sense of joy in their skills, the film is quite traditional and follows common patterns. This is not inherently indicative of bad filmmaking but rather proves that the most obvious route was taken. Still, there is a lot of value in this approach, and we find that Robertson still puts in quite a lot of effort to develop these ideas into something with value and complexity, and it may shine a light on a side of the art of ballet that many of us had never seen before – even those of us who were aware of the Bolshoi Ballet were likely not knowledgable about the mechanics that run that prestigious school, as well as the underlying politics that govern the entire industry as a whole, which are usually the aspects of this film that prove to be the most intriguing. There’s a lot of valuable content embedded deep within Joika, but its the narrative of being an outsider, thrust into a world that we genuinely thought we understood, only to realize that there is a more complex side to the world than they thought they knew how to navigate, only to have new layers filled with insurmountable obstacles presented to them, which only amplifies the feeling of despair and self-loathing that seems to be as much a part of the curriculum as the actual training itself, an intriguing aspect that I am not entirely sure this film quite realized had the potential to be much more than just a sub-plot in itself.
Several flaws exist at the heart of Joika, which is not a film that deserves much ire, but also doesn’t earn enough credibility to be seen as entirely successful. The two major shortcomings are related to the tone of the film, as well as how it handles the plot, two elements that unfortunately never quite connect in a way that would make sense in the context of the film. Robertson seemed to be making a very different film from the one that was written – what was a simple, straightforward biographical drama formed in the mould of the countless inspirational sports dramas about underdogs overcoming obstacles was instead subjected to frequent attempts to make it more elevated, turning it into a psychological thriller, despite the lack of any actual content that would suggest this as the most appropriate approach. The director has seen films like Black Swan and Suspiria because there are compositions and tonal qualities that allude to these films, either intentionally or through mere sub-conscious tendencies, but considering how the narrative itself is not quite as strong as it perhaps ought to have been for such an approach, the film gets lost somewhere in between the intention and execution, which leaves quite a sizeable gap from which far too many tonal inconsistencies can begin to fester. As a result, the final product is quite unstable in terms of what it wants to be – not only is it a bizarre blend of genres, but it also doesn’t quite know what to expect from the audience, since we aren’t even sure whether or not we should be feeling riveted by how this character’s story ends or repulsed by the treatment she endured. Womack is comparatively still quite young, with the events depicted here only taking place about a decade ago, so there isn’t much space for us to see how these experiences shaped her journey since she is still quite active in the industry. Even putting these elements aside, Joika doesn’t do enough to showcase the actual complexity of her situation, and it feels like the overall experience is diminished by the simple fact that there was such a major disconnect between the idea and how it was executed, two wildly different aspects of the film that should have been far more cohesive.
Despite having quite a sprawling cast, Joika is essentially built on two characters, namely Womack and her instructor Tatiyana Volkova, a harsh former dancer who has grown quite callous over time, and who refuses to accept the idea that this outsider could ever hope to be on the same level as the Russian dancers, to whom she shows a sincere preference. The casting was key since the film is constructed as a character study of these two individuals and their shifting relationship, which constantly ebbs and flows between of mentorship and abuse. This is a fascinating aspect of the story, and to their credit, both Talia Ryder and Diane Kruger do relatively well with the material, even if neither of them proves to be particularly memorable. Ryder is a rising star and has already made quite an impression in the industry, while this film doesn’t offer her the breakthrough she may have anticipated, it is still a good showcase for her gifts, especially since she is also a trained dancer, which removed a lot of the incredulity that could have come from having a non-dancer play this role. She manages to do quite well in most of the scenes, but some of the more dramatic moments (such as a confrontation with her parents) show that there are quite a few skills that still need to be sharpened before she gets that one leading role that pushes her to the very top. Kruger is not quite as successful, since while she has proven to be great with the right material, she does struggle to capture the specific details that make her character here so intriguing – in a role that was conceived with Isabelle Huppert in the role (who in turn would have likely drawn from her performance in The Piano Teacher), Kruger begins to fall into the background, despite having quite a distinct character. She fails to capture some of the more interesting aspects of Volkova, including the oscillation between warmth and fury that made her such a fiery presence in Womack’s life. The fact that we step away from this film never quite knowing if she was supposed to be a hero or a mentor is not some intentional ambiguity on the part of the director, but rather a flaw of the screenplay, as well as Kruger not quite grasping the true scope of the character as a result.
Joika is a prime example of how some films can have a great concept and all the elements needed to make an excellent film, and still falter because of the small details, which are often overlooked when putting such a project together. It’s certainly not a bad film, but rather one that just feels slightly too dull, and it never quite amounts to being more than just a by-the-numbers biographical drama that doesn’t offer us anything we haven’t seen several times before. It’s not an interesting film, and the subject itself is fascinating in its way, but not particularly appropriate for such a simple approach. A very straightforward biographical drama, but one that still makes us wonder what could have been possible with a more concise approach, it is still possible to look at Joika and find value in its perspective. The dance sequences are strikingly beautiful, and there is still a lot of value in seeing the underlying machinations that exist behind the proverbial curtain of a ballet company, which is filled with political bickering and interpersonal conflict that could have been an entire story on its own. One wonders how different this film could have been had it placed more focus on this aspect of the story, rather than stressing the relationship between Womack and Volkova, which is interesting but not riveting enough to warrant two hours of back-and-forth between a pair of clearly opposed characters. This is a film that has shortcomings, and it’s not clear whether or not it can rise above these aspects, but it at least offers a very different perspective, and allows us to get a glimpse into a world we don’t often get to experience for ourselves, and with several good ideas, and some solid execution, Joika is still entertaining enough to capture our attention, it just struggles to hold it with quite the same rigour.