Tutu Terror: Meet the Newest Ballet Badass Shaking Screens
In a striking amalgamation of the surreal and the grotesque, we find ourselves confronted with the enigmatic figure of the Ballerina Vampire. It reads like a whimsical concoction from a Mad Libs adventure, a concoction so absurdly delightful that it captures the imagination effortlessly. Even for those yet to witness the debut of "Abigail," the recent gore-fest sensation, the very mention conjures vivid imagery — the menacing fangs juxtaposed with a blood-stained white tutu. One can almost envision the fervent anticipation of a Spirit Halloween executive, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to capitalize on such a macabre muse.
Despite the seemingly improbable nature of Abigail, the bloodthirsty danseuse, her lineage in popular culture runs deep. Ballerinas have long been a recurring motif in the realm of horror, akin to the timeless allure of vampires. Through the decades, cinema and television have drawn inspiration from the notion of the ballerina, whose on-stage grace masks a sinister undercurrent. From the classic masterpiece "The Red Shoes" (1948) to the more contemporary, pulpy narrative of "Tiny Pretty Things" (2021) on Netflix, the allure remains potent. At times, these narratives delve into the poignant truths of ballet life — the relentless pursuit of perfection, the sacrificial toll exacted by an art form steeped in physicality. Yet, on other occasions, they veer into the realm of clichés, employing ballet as a captivating canvas splattered with the crimson hues of blood.
According to Adrienne McLean, a distinguished professor of film studies at the University of Texas, Dallas, and the esteemed author of "Dying Swans and Madmen: Ballet, the Body, and Narrative Cinema," the allure of "Abigail" lies not in its choreography but in its embrace of the pop culture archetype of the perilous ballerina.
But Abigail is not alone in her dangerous allure. Casting calls herald the inception of a new musical adaptation inspired by the iconic film "Black Swan" (2010), wherein the troubled, self-destructive protagonist embodies the very essence of gothic ballet's most enduring stereotypes.
Unlike its somber counterpart, "Black Swan," the darkly comedic "Abigail" does not aspire to profundity. However, the portrayal of ballet within the entertainment realm carries significant weight, even within campy escapades such as this.
In 2022, a mere two percent of American adults attended live ballet performances, as per a survey conducted by the National Endowment for the Arts. As paraphrased from the illustrious dance critic Joan Acocella, the majority of individuals derive their perceptions of ballet from the silver screen or television. The fascination with ballet horror, regardless of its genuine engagement with the art form, consistently revolves around the enigmatic figure of the female dancer, often viewed through a distorted and occasionally misogynistic lens. The portrayal of the dangerous ballerina, both on screen and in the collective consciousness, paints a picture of obsession, torment, and the propensity for self-inflicted harm.
Dance, with its juxtaposition of supreme control and uninhibited abandon, serves as fertile ground for body-horror narratives. The fascination with ballet, in particular, hinges on the interplay between the ethereal grace of the ballerina and the arduous labor demanded to manifest such grace. In an interview, the directors of "Abigail," Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, likened ballet dancers to masters of deception.
Much like its predecessors, "Abigail" draws inspiration from the timeless repertoire classic, "Swan Lake." As Abigail transitions into her vampiric persona, she adorns a white-feathered tutu, accompanied by the haunting strains of Tchaikovsky's swan theme. Indeed, Tchaikovsky's evocative score from "Swan Lake" serves as the bedrock for horror's enduring fascination with ballet, its plaintive melodies and shimm
The dichotomy inherent in the leading role of "Swan Lake," wherein one dancer embodies both the virtuous Odette and the malevolent Odile, offers a stark, screen-friendly contrast: Odette's pristine tutu versus Odile's sable attire. The ballet's transformative narrative lends itself seamlessly to the realm of horror. After all, is a girl who transforms into a vampire so different from one who metamorphoses into a swan?
The narrative of many ballet thrillers capitalizes on age-old clichés, each harboring a kernel of truth. The overbearing stage mothers, tyrannical instructors, and relentless physical demands depicted within these narratives may be exaggerated, yet they find echoes within the reality of ballet, much like other forms of elite physical endeavor.
Sarah Hay, an actress and former professional ballet dancer renowned for her portrayal of the tormented ballet ingenue Claire Robbins in the 2015 mini-series "Flesh and Bone," drew inspiration from her own experiences in shaping her character.
“There are aspects of ballet's recent history that are deeply disturbing,” she remarked. “I struggled with self-hatred, just like Claire. I could see myself in that character.”
However, there has been a discernible shift in the portrayal of tortured ballet dancers on screen. As McLean notes, the melodramatic portrayals of the mid-20th century, epitomized by "The Red Shoes," have given way to a newer breed of narratives wherein ballet dancers, unhinged and volatile, wreak havoc upon others, even resorting to acts of violence.
The common thread, according to McLean, is the underlying premise that "ballet will drive you to madness." Whether ballet consumes the dancer or the dancer becomes a predator in her own right, the overarching message remains consistent: approach with caution, for these individuals are unhinged.
Predictably, such depictions have elicited unease within the ballet community. Gavin Larsen, a former dancer and author of the memoir "Being a Ballerina: The Power and Perfection of a Dancing Life," laments the corrosive impact of such portrayals.
“Someone recently expressed reluctance to enroll his daughter in ballet class, fearing she might 'go all 'Black Swan' on us,'" she revealed. “He genuinely believed that ballet held the potential to transform his daughter into a psychopath — a notion diametrically opposed to my own largely positive experiences within the ballet world.”
"Abigail," it seems, is uninterested in delving into the psyche of the ballerina. Initially conceived as mere window dressing, ballet assumes a more integral role within the narrative, thanks in part to the casting of Alisha Weir, a gifted performer with a penchant for contemporary and jazz dance. Weir's talent prompted the filmmakers to integrate dance more seamlessly into the fabric of the story, showcasing Abigail's prowess as she embarks on her bloodthirsty escapades.
