The White Crow

He dances, he looks great in tights, he's flamboyant and he's Russian: how could it be anyone but Rudolf Nureyev? The White Crow (not the swan, note) is a sumptuous biopic about Nureyev, the volatile ballet star born in poverty who changed the very nature of dance to become a cultural icon. Ralph Fiennes's third feature as director also acts as a film debut for Ukrainian dancer Oleg Ivenko, who may not have the charismatic presence of Nureyev, but does have the requisite athleticism. Flashbacks to Nureyev's peasant roots flit between the serial seductions and liaisons, political arguments and useful acquaintances that lead to his ground-breaking defection from the Soviet Union in 1961. Even if ballet is not to your taste, Fiennes's eye for period detail and David Hare's pacey script forge a sprung platform from which Ivenko leaps almost as magnificently as the diva-like world-shaker himself. Fiennes also makes a notable appearance (speaking in Russian) as Nureyev's dance coach, Pushkin.