Behind the camera of Dance Macabre stands a trifecta of 20th-century cinematic cheese in director Greydon Clark and producers Menahem Golan and Harry Alan Towers, so it’s a shame this Russia-lensed terror tale is more Limburger than Parmesan.
In what originally was intended as a sequel to his 1989 turn as The Phantom of the Opera, Robert Englund stars as Anthony Wager, famed choreographer of the fabled Madame Gordenko’s ballet academy. For the school’s inaugural class of students from outside the Iron Curtain, rebellious American teen Jessica (Michelle Zeitlin) is enrolled, to whom Anthony takes a great liking because she resembles his late, beloved Svetlana. As for Madame Gordenko, well, she’s bound to a wheelchair and (apparently) sunglasses, and speaks using a throat harmonica.
To the surprise of no one, Anthony’s rising interest in Jessica is inversely proportional to the school’s student population — why, it’s almost as if someone is trying to eliminate the competition so she can cop the top spot by default! Also to the surprise of no one, those kills come rather rote and unimaginative — something one can’t say about the dialogue, which is so bewildering it sounds like Clark had his script translated into Russian, then translated back into English and shot that version; to wit, “Do you want to get wet with me? Do you like bubbles?”
Do you like Dario Argento’s Suspiria? Because in setting and premise, but nothing else, Dance Macabre is indebted to that horror classic — and I mean a lot, as in the-mob-will-come-to-break-your-legs a lot. In something of a cosmic interest payment, Clark presages an element of Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria remake by — spoiler alert, although it should be evident from the trailer — having Englund bend gender to also play Gordenko. While the makeup is unconvincing, it adds a touch of the perverse to a dull film lacking originality and energy. —Rod Lott