Contextual Analysis: The Devil in the Details of “The Red Shoes”

In 2019, I went back to university. I saw "back" because I had previously attempted a degree in psychology when I was eighteen, but quickly realised that it wasn't for me. Nine years had passed since then and my interest in psychology had since dwindled down to mere embers of a past life. My years of freelance work had ignited a new passion, so this time, I enrolled in a BSc Writing & Film Studies course.

During the "Intro to Film Studies" module in the first year, I was taught the basics of academic writing through a curriculum that taught me to think critically about great films from across the art form's hundred-year history, from Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans to Barton Fink. At the end of the year, I had to write my very first essay about one of the films, and any topic I desired, subject to approval.

So, like most people still finding their feet at school, I just went with the film I personally liked the most: Powell & Pressburger's The Red Shoes. Considered one of the greatest films of all time, this was my first encounter with the fairy tale-like story of a young ballet dancer and the impresario who tempts her with her dreams. In fact, it was precisely that aspect of the film that drew me to it - and in particular, the charismatic yet calculating character of Boris Lermontov. So, I wrote my very first academic essay about precisely that: how the film's technical aspects establishes Lermontov as a figure not dissimilar to the legendary Mephistopheles, with his very own Faustian-esque bargain.

Reading back, this definitely feels like an essay written by a first-year student - but that's because it was. Just like how I published my very first video game review, I find a certain appeal in looking back, to see how far I've really come.

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Like the fairy tale that inspired both its name and the in-film ballet, the story of The Red Shoes (Powell & Pressburger, 1948) is at its core the story of a “Faustian Pact”; a fateful deal where one gives into temptation and is granted immeasurable success, for an ultimately tragic price. The phrase takes its name from the German legend of Faust, who promised his soul to the demon Mephistopheles in exchange for unlimited knowledge. In The Red Shoes, both the dancer Vicky (Moira Shearer) and composer Craster (Marius Goring) enter less supernatural versions of this fateful promise, and in this essay, I will demonstrate how the film uses sound, cinematography, performance, and mise en scène to establish the ballet impresario Boris Lermontov (Anton Walbrook) as the controlling, manipulative “demonic maestro who offers Vicky (Moira Sheerer) a Faustian pact.” (Murphy, 2005, pg.68).

The first scene I will analyse in this respect, is the moment when Lermontov first invites Craster to rewrite The Red Shoes ballet (Powell & Pressburger, 1948, 0:37:30 – 0:40:29). An establishing long shot depicts Lermontov at the back of his dark office, where he is standing under a window that draws our attention through its creation of an inner frame and being the sole light source visible in the shot. Lermontov’s unsettled mind following the previous scene, where his previous star Irina announced her marriage, is communicated by the room being dark despite the ambient diegetic sound of traffic indicating a daytime setting. This is accentuated by his smoking of a cigarette, combining to give the instrumental prop a metaphorical meaning.

Robert Murphy asserts that Lermontov is a man who acts like a god (2005, pg.71) and we can see that desire for control when he walks to the scale replica stage on his desk. It being introduced to us in darkness is a symbol of his lost control over Irina (Ludmilla Tchérina), yet him turning them on moments before Craster knocks is a light-bulb moment, signaling a new idea to regain control over the world he’s created. He walks across the room to turn on the lights, and hide his darker side, but does not open the door. Instead, Lermontov establishes a power dynamic by returning to his deck, then permitting Craster to enter.

This power dynamic is shown through the performances and social blocking of both Goring and Walbrook. Craster enters the frame with an aggressive “Good!” (0:38:14) and firm door close, but Lermontov quickly takes control by walking over and closing the personal space between them. Within seconds, Craster is put on the defensive by Lermontov asking if he’s unhappy with the work, which is shown by Craster looking down and fiddling with his baton.

Having exposed his vulnerability, Lermontov then uses endearing language like “I hope you do not consider it entirely unworthy of your talent” before presenting his side of the Faustian bargain: The Red Shoes ballet.

The moment Lermontov reveals the ballet’s title cover, a sudden non-diegetic musical spike draws our attention and introduces a whimsical tune as Lermontov’s dialogue becomes distorted. This playing over a shot of Craster’s confused face creates the suggestion of a magical charm, as noted by Ian Christie:

“Whatever realism had attached to the aspiring dancers and musicians soon falls away once Vicky and Julian enter Lermontov’s charmed circle and [...], the texture thereafter is wholly magical: no sooner does Lermontov propose ‘The Red Shoes’ to Julian than we hear its music.” (Christie, 1994, pg66)

The film possessing a magical nature similar to the fairy tale was also touched on by Adam Sorvell, who suggested that Vicky’s death in the climax wasn’t a suicide but initiated by the shoes “because of the impossibility of the choice or because they knew she had made such the choice to run back to Craster.” (Sorvell, 2019).

While telling Craster the story of The Red Shoes, attention is brought to Lermontov through the use of a close-up shot as he caresses a white statuette of a dancer’s shoe and tells Craster about the fairy tale’s ending. This shot highlights his Mephistophelean role in the story, with his careful nurturing of a metaphorical prop representing Vicky. The untainted white colour of the statuette represents Lermontov’s ideal image of his dancers, having replaced Irina after her marriage, and now setting his sights on Vicky.

In that respect, his line “Time rushes by, love rushes by, life rushes by. But the red shoes dance on” (Powell & Pressburger, 1948, 00:39:45) may be foreshadowing that he knows how Vicky’s pact with him will end, as later in the film she loves, dies, and The Red Shoes ballet is performed with an empty spotlight. Diana Diamond (2016) goes further to suggest this as his intention, remarking that his follow-up “cool offhand comment, “Oh in the end she dies,” expresses his conviction that it is necessary, even desirable, to die for art” (pp.2108).

The second scene I will be analysing in relation to Lermontov’s Mephistophelean nature, takes place later in the film when he meets Vicky sometime after their falling out, and persuades her to rejoin his ballet company (1:55:15 – 1:57:55). My reason for selecting this particular scene, is because I find that in accompaniment to the previous, it serves to highlight a repeated pattern of behaviour for Lermontov, as he employs strategies similar to his charming of Craster, to tempt Vicky back to him.

After a brightly coloured long shot establishes Vicky’s train pulling into the platform, a panning POV shot from her perspectives shows us that she is watching the crowd gathered on the platform, when her focus locks on Lermontov. A shot/reverse shot from each other’s points of view is used to establish their recognition of one another. The scene uses interior frames in two subsequent shots to emphasise Lermontov’s importance in this sequence. The first, is a point of view shot where Vicky is watching him from the train window, and her view becomes increasingly obscured by the train wall, cutting the right side of the frame to keep Lermontov in the centre of the visible space.

Mise en scène and cinematography continue to portray Lermontov as the dominant character in the following shot, when like in the previous scene I analysed, Lermontov enters the frame with his presence highlighted by an interior frame – this time, the cabin’s door. Lermontov again establishes his dominance early on by closing the door behind him as the train starts to move, creating a closed space in which Vicky cannot escape. Social blocking is then utilised to communicate a clear power dynamic between the two: Vicky sitting down with her back to the camera places her in a more submissive position compared to Lermontov, who remains standing over her.

While their conversation uses multiple shot/reverse shot cuts, the choice of cinematography in their respective close-ups illustrates Lermontov’s dominating perspective in the scene. The scene’s verisimilitude is maintained by a constant eyeline match between cuts of Lermontov’s established position in medium long shots and the slight downwards tilt of Vicky’s close-ups, which suggests Lermontov’s control over Vicky. On the other hand, Lermontov’s own close-ups keep a consistent level and angle even after the medium long shots have shown Vicky to have turned away.

Their meeting in this scene could be considered a battle against temptation, especially when compared to the previous sequence I described. Lermontov presents the same strategy in both: assert control early on, butter up with compliments, and then go in with the pitch. It’s notable that while Craster maintained eye contact with Lermontov throughout their conversation, the moment Lermontov shifts the conversation towards work, Vicky averts her gaze. This difference could indicate Vicky’s attempt to resist his charms, yet Moira Shearer’s performance shows that he breaches her mental defences anyway.

The moment Lermontov mentions the development of a new ballet, Moira Shearer communicates that Vicky has been hooked by his words with the subtle physical gestures of gradually raising her gaze and slowly smiling as he continues. This becomes more pronounced in the follow-up shot, arguably the most important of the film in respect to Lermontov’s Mephistophelean nature.

The side-on medium close-up of Vicky shows her in the brightly lit foreground, looking straight ahead with a smile on her face, and glazed eyes that are looking straight ahead. Lermontov is sat by her shoulder, with Vicky’s shadow cast partially over him. He is looking directly at her, with their social blocking evoking the classical image of a demon whispering wicked temptations into one’s ear. Lermontov does just that by suggesting that the role The Red Shoes is hers alone to perform. At his line “Nobody ever shall”, a jovial tune starts to play, and as he continues with “Put on the red shoes Vicky, and dance for us again”, her eyes perk up and look more resolute. As with Craster’s scene before, the introduction of music marks that she has now fallen under Lermontov’s spell. This is confirmed by the tune acting as a sound bridge into the next scene, which begins with a shot of an advertisement for The Red Shoes ballet, with Vicky receiving top billing.

Others, however, suggest that rather being a tempter with fiendish devices, Lermontov’s nature is closer to being a victim of artistic desire as well. Robert Murphy comments that he raised Vicky and Julian from obscurity and enabled their talents, but that he also destroyed them (2005, pg.71). Martin Scorsese attributes this his creative vision, saying “the price of his own great entrepreneurship is the destruction of himself and the people around him” (2011). This is also supported by Ian Christie, who regards Lermontov as “the commanding figure of the artist as someone who creates using human materials […] If things aren’t right, he feels it deeply.” (Christie, 2009). This alternate idea suggests that rather than having Mephistophelean knowledge that his dealings will lead to their demise, that Vicky’s death was instead an unintentional and traumatic consequence of his own hubris. This could be supported by the final scene, in which he appears to the audience clearly emotional, and decides to honour Vicky by carrying on the performance without her, rather than simply repossessing the shoes and waiting for the next victim, like the shoemaker in the ballet.

While these interpretations aren’t necessarily in opposition to one another, I believe the sequences I analysed to be more indicative of a Mephistophelean aspect of Lermontov’s character. When compared side-by-side, they show remarkable similarities not just in the narrative of Lermontov’s rehearsed coercive behaviour, but also in how individual shots use elements of mise en scène such as placing Lermontov within interior frames, in combination with social blocking in relation to Vicky and Craster, to give him a more dominating physicality that makes others more vulnerable in Lermontov’s presence, and thus open to his manipulation.

The subtle gestures in Moira Shearer and Marius Goring’s performances also help create impressions of being lulled into entranced states, which combined with the brief yet very deliberately placed music adding to the supernatural feeling of their interactions with Lermontov.

So, while I do not believe it literal in light of the film world’s realism, I conclude that The Red Shoes utilises these different elements of film language to further suggest the narrative similarities between the film and its in-story ballet, where Lermontov takes on the role of the shoemaker – the Mephisto of this story.

Bibliography:

Christie, I., 1994. Romancing Agonies. In: Arrows of desire: the films of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. London: Faber.

Christie, I., 2009. The Profile of the Red Shoes. On: The Red Shoes [Blu-ray] London: ITV Studios Home Entertainment.

Diamond, D. 2016. The Red Shoes: A fairy tale within a ballet within a film. Psychoanalytic Psychology, 33(1), pp. S104-S119.

Murphy, R. 2005. Strong Men: Three Forms of the Magus in the Films of Powell and Pressburger. In: Screen, 46(1), pp.68-71.

Scorsese, M. 2011. In: Martin Scorsese on Boris Lermontov [online]. Available at <https://www.fastcompany.com/1795758/martin-scorsese-boris-lermontov>. [Accessed 22nd November 2019]

Scovell, A, 2019. The dark heart of Powell and Pressburger’s The Red Shoes [online]. Available at <https://lwlies.com/articles/the-red-shoes-powell-and-pressburger-fairy-tale/> [Accessed 22nd November 2019]

The Red Shoes (1948). [Online]. Directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. UK: General Film Distributors [viewed 19th December 2019]. Available from Box of Broadcasts.