The Aerialist is prone to melodrama, particularly evident in the flat sub-plot that deals with Paloma (Victoria Meade), a young woman who’s afraid to live up to her mother’s reputation but, spurred by Jane (“Get a little sass in that a**!”), eventually overcomes her fear. Some moments verge on the unintentionally humorous, such as the scene where Jane rips off her clothes during her first interview with Runa. The finale will either inspire tears or make people gag, depending on their tolerance for cheese.
“…moments verge on the unintentionally humorous…”
It’s unfortunate the film is so riddled with blemishes, as there’s a real, lived-in camaraderie between the aerial performers. It’s also great to see a feature led by a group of strong females, most aged 40+, that avoids sermonizing – something you don’t usually see in Hollywood films, which tend to trumpet their “wokeness.” Dreya Weber is stunningly graceful, made of lean muscle, performing acrobatic feats that put girls half her age to shame. She also happens to be a natural screen presence, equally adept at displaying vulnerability, sophistication, and hard-earned wisdom. Kelly Marcus makes for a believably despicable antagonist, spouting lines like, “I’ll learn from the ancient ones” with delectable relish.
All in all, Farr’s film is ultimately an empty attempt to glean drama from the world of aerialists. I wish it delved more into the acrobatics’ artistic aspect, perhaps at least tried to stylistically and thematically mirror the alluring, otherworldly nature of the dance itself. The Aerialist takes too many stumbles to achieve that sort of lift-off.
"…acrobats contort their bodies in impossible ways, gliding over the stage, becoming one with their silks..."
