Ailey, the second full-length documentary feature by director Jamila Wignot, honors the life of Alvin Ailey, one of the most famous choreographers of modern dance and most important choreographers of the 20th century. Ailey’s work is emotional, fully felt and intimately physical. It is also socially and politically informed and deeply personal. This documentary immerses the viewer in that transcendent experience of watching an Ailey dance performance. Wignot often uses clips of Ailey’s most famous dances, seamlessly edited together to highlight the evocative and emotional experience of watching an entire performance.
The film follows Ailey’s life in broad strokes, from his childhood and initial love of dance, through his move from Texas to New York City in the 1950s, to the formation of his own dance company and his rise to prominence. We flash forward to modern day at the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater years after his death and watch the theater’s current dancers and choreographers carry on his legacy and perform with that same urgency and grace that has defined the company all these years. The director makes a smart choice here, dipping back into the present to showcase Ailey’s legacy and impact and the endearing power of his dances (and dances inspired by him), but remaining mostly focused on the dancer himself.
Wignot takes a fascinating approach here. This documentary has a distinctly cinematic, even arthouse, feel. Often, the does not focus on specific dates, or concrete details of Ailey’s life, such as the exact circumstances of the formation of his dance company. We experience his story more broadly, like his impressions of NYC and the first dancers he saw in the city, and presentday interviews with his original dancers and friends. The director makes extensive use of footage of Ailey, his dancers and also broader historic footage. We see Black people in NYC, in the South, haunting faces from within Ailey’s world and also representative of his worldview. These images are woven together into a nostalgic reel, with enveloping and romantic music propelling the dances and images forward. The director creates a beautiful, melancholic, dreamy atmosphere. We are carried along into a hazy liminal space where we imagine Ailey might have invented his dances. A voiceover from Ailey himself (recordings for an autobiography) feels intimate, like we are being told the story of his life with him right next to us. Extensive use of old interviews with Ailey and modern-day interviews with his company members allows an overall storytelling experience.
What this film does well is convey the emotional power of his dances, and Ailey’s experience of being an artist. His life was full of highs and lows. We feel Ailey’s artistic power and vision as he creates movement from personal experience. This personal experience includes his identity as a Black man. The film understands the challenges Ailey faced as an artist and larger figure. He was isolated and carrying a creative burden. Expectations of representation and continued output were placed on him. The film honors his creative struggle and his authenticity. It honors the experience of how an artist sees the world and wrestles that into movement. The director finds an excellent balance of celebrating blackness, queerness and social context, as well as the universal yet specific qualities of Ailey as a choreographer (and as he said, not just a “Black” choreographer).
Ailey dwells on several exciting and pivotal moments in the dancer’s career, opening with his Kennedy Center honors, as well as the thrilling rise of his company and audience reactions to performances. However, by skipping over many other specifics and maintaining a dreamy quality throughout, at times we lose the excitement and momentum of the overall narrative. Still, the film still feels immersive, emotional and necessary. What a beautiful reflection on Ailey’s inner world and his choreography.
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