Ballet 422 is a single subject documentary film about the development of New York City Ballet's 422nd original ballet. Most of the focus falls on choreographer and troupe member Justin Peck. He is a performer with the lower company and picked to pull double duty because of his performance at a choreography intensive. I can see myself using Ballet 422 with my theater students. I never realized how the conversations of a creative team must seem so alien to outsiders. We develop our own vocabulary, short-hands, and way of describing the unique combination of living performers and non-living design elements for emotional, narrative, and visual impact. I felt that confusion many times throughout this hour and fifteen minute documentary about producing original ballet.

That is perhaps the hardest element to get through in Ballet 422. Director Jody Lee Lipps does an excellent job conveying the stakes of producing original dance work. She captures the beauty of these dancers and the evolution of a choreographer's vision. Her vision falls a bit short in keeping the audience engaged with the more technical aspects of production.

Take, for instance, the recurring motif of Justin Peck correcting his dancers. Ballet has its own language and Peck works with some of the top professionals in the industry. The dancers, obviously, take notes quickly and make the minute changes asked of them; it just looks almost identical to an untrained eye.

One level of distance like this can create intrigue in a documentary. Stack up additional levels for costuming, lighting design, music, and the expectations of original performance at Lincoln Center and it's far too easy to get lost when the dancers aren't front and center.

Compare Ballet 422 to Wim Wenders' Pina. Pina focused on the work of an avant garde choreographer. Her language and vision, even at its most esoteric, was carefully explained and contextualized before and during every recreated performance. I never felt confusion over what the dances and elements of design were trying to convey.

Ballet 422 starts with title cards explaining the context of the film. These are incredibly helpful in the first few minutes. Then, they are abandoned. The title cards for most of the film are used to define the timeline of production. Where elements such as the full time orchestra and body count of dancers are given freely, similar treatment is missing for lighting, costuming, and rehearsal teams.

There is a man by Peck's side in every rehearsal for the ballet. He is never identified. His role is never explained. Is he an assistant choreographer? A mentor for the new choreographer? A creative director for the company? What is the nature of the professional relationship between the credited choreographer and the mysterious man offering an extra set of eyes on the minutia of dance?

This is the problem with Ballet 422. It just assumes a bit too much knowledge on the role of the viewer. Yes, the person likely interested in watching a documentary about the development of a ballet probably has an interest in the form. That does not mean they are an expert in the intricacies of behind the scenes production work.

Ballet 422 winds up as a pretty documentary. The quality of visual is lovely. The dancers, music, and palette of the film are beautiful. The film constantly shifts focus, creating new images to maintain interest. It just falls short in clearly achieving its goal of presenting the development of 422nd ballet at New York City Ballet.

Ballet 422 is currently streaming on Netflix.