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Unlike most documentaries, there isn’t a single moment in Ballet 422 (2014) when one of its subjects interacts with the camera. Nor any moments when the filmmakers interact with the subject. The film is shot completely from an observatory point of view, letting the actions of its subjects say everything. It’s impossible for people to ever act completely normal when a camera is on them - even people used to performing in front of others on a daily basis - but this filmmaking approach gets as close as possible to capturing an unadulterated environment operating in its natural manner.

Instead of the filmmakers asking questions of the subjects, leading them into responses they may want for the sake of the film, we simply see Peck and his fellow NYCB company members doing what they do. We see him discussing things with the lighting crew, with the costume designers, beindg asked questions about things he never thought to consider, and asking them things they thought he would think about.

The drama is there. It’s in the obvious feeling of oddity in Peck’s face when he, a member of the corps de ballet, gives corrections to the company’s principal dancers. He’s forced into backwards seniority that makes him uneasy. Certain requests he makes of the lighting crew or the orchestra are done with wariness, as if he thinks they’re going to think they were stupid ideas. A bit of ageism is shown from the pit conductor when Peck asks to address his orchestra, as if the conductor thinks this “kid” has no business speaking to his seasoned musicians. But Peck does what needs to be done. The ballet is his creation, and he knows exactly what he wants down to the smallest details from the angle of dancer’s fingers on the floor to split-second elbow movements that the layperson would never notice in a million viewings.

The documentary’s no-involvement method of storytelling captures all these nuances in Peck’s craft and lets us notice them on our own. It’s a compelling method of complete voyeurism. While the lack of manufactured intrigue and drama may turn away audiences not super interested in ballet, the film doesn’t seem to care. Then again, it’s debatable that anyone without some interest in ballet would sit down with Ballet 422 in the first place - so what’s the risk?

From The AV Club:

“The tension of Ballet 422 is supplied mainly by Lipes’ consistently inventive and probing visuals (imposing long shots looking down the NYCB facility’s hallways; a solo rehearsal dance seen mostly through a recording iPhone) and by what he chooses to elide. No one ever speaks directly to camera and all the action is captured as it happens. In this way, Lipes appears to be following in the footsteps of direct-cinema pioneers like D.A. Pennebaker and Frederick Wiseman, though to very grim ends. Paz De La Jolla is never shown in full, so there’s little sense of the movie building to a triumphant climax. Premiere night is, in its own way, as ordinary and humdrum an experience as any of the lengthy rehearsal periods or offstage bull sessions with lighting and costume designers.”