I saw this movie last night at a packed house in NYC. As one who started following ballet very closely during this time period, I was spellbound throughout. The unseen footage alone was worth the price of admission.
I was fortunate to see almost all of these dancers in my youth.
The movie covers as much of his life as one could expect in two hours. Aside from showing his sine qua non love of dance, there are insights into his romantic relationship with Erik Bruhn, a Danish contemporary who preceded him in death, and even deeper insights into his love for Margot Fonteyn, whose death two years prior to his own simply devastated him. There are brief and poignant poetry quotes throughout that are lifting and on point.
There are also aspects which cover his Russian youth, his defection, his relationship with his mother and his untimely death from AIDS. The movie is to be applauded for it's handling of this final chapter of his life. It is matter-of-fact told with great sensitivity, yet not turning the subject matter into a political commentary.
In the mid 70's there were one or two classical dancers who, if based on an Olympic scoring system, actually would have scored a point or two above Nureyev on a technical scale. This was not mentioned in the movie nor should it have been. It didn't matter. There was no contest when they took the stage. While other men danced the roles to perfection, Nureyev made love to and devoured them at the same time. When he took the stage, you knew it. It was like no one else.
The movie was not without faults. The sound quality was south of acceptable and at other times when there was narration over footage, the music did not match up with the piece being shown. This was somewhat annoying.
Nonetheless it touched me in a way I find hard to explain. That was 18 hours ago. If the documentary ran that long, I would still be in the theater.