Anyway, I have heard about this movie off and on for some time. It's reviewed and considered to be a study on "art" as a creed, as a way of life, and the decision a dancer has between being the best in the world or being a housewife.
I found it to be a 1950's morality tale about the dangers of a woman wanting to have a life. Why else would her stupid (I didn't much like him) composer husband demand she give up everything to hang out and watch him work? Why else would the impressario who ran the ballet company demand only single women? (He tells us that happy contented females don't give everything they've got on stage and therefore are lousy artists.) Anyway, she dies, but not before dancing a lot on a Dali-esque soundstage and demanding that her husband remove the red shoes from off her feet. Historically it's an important movie as it shows a strong homosexual man right after World War II when to be homosexual was likely to get ya killed. Which is nice. I just didn't care since it was a grasping insensitive hetrosexual man butting heads with a controlling emotionally manipulative homosexual man over who got to ruin this woman's life. I would have left both of them and started my own dance company, if only to escape the seething testosterone (from the gay man) and hateful sniping (from the straight guy).
::sigh:: It's a sad movie, but not in that dreamy lovely "they really loved each other and it was a noble sacrifice" sort of way. Nope, this is sad in that "it's horrible that she felt compelled to kill herself rather than telling both the men in her life to stuff it" way. Probably I'd let any little girl I had watch it but only if I meant to deter her from ever wanting to be a ballerina.
