The Company is a truly voyeuristic journey behind the scenes and in the front row of the lives of world-class ballet dancers. And it is a peeping Tom tour guided by the masterful maestro of cinema-orchestration Robert Altman. In a totally un-Altman-esque fashion we are given a seductive backstage pass into the world of Chicago's famed Joffrey Ballet Company.

The first astonishing revelation is the stunning performance by Neve Campbell (an eye-opener that makes her scene with Denise Richards and Matt Dillon in Wild Things seem like a footnote.) Not that this is an overtly sexual performance, but her skills as a dancer and the intimacy that this form of art allows her to unleash is far more striking than her infamous 3-way. Her turn here gives us a glimpse at a side of this reliably likable actress, that should see her stock rise significantly.

The Company also gives the viewer a better appreciation of the consummate athleticism that lies at the heart of this art form. Dancers of this caliber are physical specimens who must maintain compact muscular strength, flexibility and coordination that rival participants in any other sport. Yet their finely tuned physicality must be veiled behind a smokescreen of effortless grace. That transcendent ethereal quality, that creates the illusion of flight and demonstrates the beauty of the human form as an instrument seemingly incapable of nothing.

This film would be well worth watching, if there were nothing other than the dance sequences - I think viewers not particularly interested in ballet and dance would see the light after the opening sequences of The Company. The beauty of Altman's film is that we weave back and forth between the outer beauty that a patron would witness from a balcony seat and the all-too-human underbelly of the beast exposed behind the scenes and beyond into the personal lives of the people who sacrifice so much for this entrancing art form.

Altman really seems to be having a grand time working with the vibrant and volatile palette of dancers with all their attendant passion, commitment, and their all-too-human egotism, jealousies and sexuality. Yet beyond all this they are driven individuals who are willing to push themselves to edge for love of the craft.

Campbell is a compelling screen presence as Ry, a Joffrey dancer who is on the cusp of becoming a principal performer. Yet her personal life offers several obstacles - for one she is in the awkward break-up stage of a relationship with her boyfriend and dance partner in the ballet. We also learn that life as a Joffrey dancer does not pay the bills. Thus she shleps through long hours as a barmaid before going home to soak her bleeding feet in a bath.

As her status in the Company's pecking order starts to rise she becomes involved with James Franco who is also an aspiring dancer. Their relationship is an interesting paradox, as she can't cook and he is a chef in a fine restaurant. Franco acquits himself quite well here, displaying some impressive dancing ability himself and lending a sweet calmness to Campbell's chaotic life. One night he cooks up a gourmet masterpiece at her apartment, only to have her arrive hours late - she finds him asleep on the sofa and contentedly joins him there.

The romance, as well as all of the other storylines, are really nothing much more than a backdrop to the tale of life with the ballet, (a career Neve Campbell once pursued.) She studied at Canada's National Ballet School before becoming an actress. Campbell actually participated in the writing of the script teaming with screenwriter Barbara Turner and also became a producer on the film.

Malcolm McDowell really loses himself in the role of the school's artistic director Alberto Antonelli, based on Gerald Arpino, Joffrey's legendary director and choreographer. He is the stick to the dancers' drum, both nurturer and demanding taskmaster. It is through his dialogue with the dancers that we learn much about what goes into the seamless stage productions that The Company is known for the world over. He also shows us that ballet is a business in a scene where one dancer's Achilles tendon snaps, he's callously summons the next girl in line for the part, while the unfortunate woman, who will probably never dance again, is carried off stage. Altman is out to show us here, that ballet is show-biz and as is the case with most big productions, the show must go on.

The object of The Company is the journey more so than the destination. The production work and dance sequences are stunning and truly seductive and are really what the movie is centered around. Altman captures the reality of the dancers lives with great authenticity, but never loses sight of the reason why they make such sacrifices - the richness and joy of the human body in such poetic flight. The movie succeeds as a result of Altman's brisk interplay of backstage reality with the surreal beauty of what these fabulous dancers can create using nothing but themselves and each other. At his direction, the camera catches every nuance that flows through these movements of lithe fluidity, and subtle sexuality that lies at the heart of this most seminal of art forms. The Company is a smart and sexy, certainly voyeuristic voyage where few films have taken us before. I hope you dance.