Return to the Strange Land. DocEdge Film Festival

26 July 2026, Wellington
reviewed by Jennifer Shennan 

This film, directed by Olga Malířová, traces the life and work of one of the world’s foremost choreographers, Jiří Kylián, but is at the same time far more than just a conventional documentary. Rather it is an exquisitely sequenced portrayal of the rich artistic rapport between Kylián and his muse, the wonderful dancer Sabine Kupferberg. The pair pace and dance and are filmed on the sand hills, across the shoreline and into the sea along the north coast of The Netherlands.

The resonance of imagery in the film’s setting is extraordinary—the sands of time, an ocean of love, a game of chess at a picnic on the beach, a choreographer with a megaphone and a dancer whose stiletto heels keep subsiding into the sand, a wild couple frantically exchanging coats, who wear hats but cannot always keep their hats on, who stride towards each other from afar but miss the meeting, who struggle to climb a sandhill but can only slide backwards down the slope, who grow older but remember their past all the more clearly for that, who share their personal stories of exile and immigration, of upbringing in an orphanage, in an essay of time and tide, set against murmurations of seabirds—gliding gulls and migrating godwits. The scenography is as beautiful as any I’ve seen, or expect to see.

The film encompasses wider themes of loyalty and betrayal at both national and personal levels, of loss and love, of ageing and fulfilment and fate, and the rapture in the very reality of being alive, while keeping close to memories of those who have passed. There are almost unbearably poignant scenes of Kylián being invited back to his homeland after some years of enforced exile. The film points to the power and web of politics that marked so much of life in 20th century Europe.

Early in his career Kylián was in the company of John Cranko in Stuttgart; it’s worth noting that John Neumeier also gained his early career opportunities with Cranko. How fertile that legacy has proved. From their earliest dance collaboration the mutual inspiration passing between Jiri and Sabine resulted in a torrent of choreography over decades (too numerous to list all the titles here—easy for you to check Jiří Kylián‘s stylish website for that wealth of information).

Excerpts from the archive of Jiří Kylián’s choreographies are interwoven into the film, but only make you wish you could see each of the complete works. It has to be an unmatched achievement in world dance that Kylián not only put Nederlands Dans Theater on the world map but also formed a second company, NDT2, for dancers others might consider too young, then a third company, ND3, for dancers others might consider too old.

Back in 1980s Kylián ventured into outback Australia to search for the significance in Aboriginal people’s dance practice. The resulting film, Road to the Stamping Ground, stays in the memory of all who saw it.

This new film, screened here as the world premiere, also acts as a memory trigger for us of Kylián‘s powerful Soldatenmis, to Martinu’s Mass for the Unknown Soldier—memorably performed in 1990s by Royal New Zealand Ballet then under the direction of the late Matz Skoog. That proved one of the strongest works in their repertoire over decades. Also memorable was the visit of NDT to the International New Zealand Festival of Arts when they performed the moving Requiem, to Mozart’s incomparable music. A work like that can help someone who might be stuck in grief.

Local readers who may have missed the single film screening here can purchase online streaming access for the next two weeks. Sad to report viewing from outside New Zealand is not possible. That must incentivise festival programmers elsewhere to book it for their schedules. The only weak point about the film is that its title does not alert viewers to its subject. There should at least be a sub-title—Jiri Kylián, master choreographer.

Jennifer Shennan, 27 July 2026

Images courtesy of DocEdge