At last, we have an antidote to all those bad movies about dancers out there. For far too long now, this type of flick has been associated with the word "trash" -- resulting in a great disservice to professional dancers. A Chorus Line: The Movie, anyone? Shall I even mention Showgirls? From what I've heard, I'm not sure I want to go near Center Stage. I watched Flashdance recently, and was surprised to find out how bad that one was.

These movies have something in common -- they equate the drive to dance with ridiculous neuroses, inevitably leading to melodrama. Whether the dancers are escaping childhood trauma or focusing an otherwise uncontrollable passion, we get the idea that these people, without dance, would probably  not be able to function normally in society, since they're so emotionally messed-up. And their lives will surely have big moments, terrible sacrifices, or both, since they live in a world of cliches.

But have no fear: The Company, an excellent dancer movie, has landed, and it's nearly perfect for its distinct lack of melodrama. Veteran director Robert Altman offers a slice-of-life peek into the realm of Chicago's esteemed Joffrey Ballet, and what we see is what we get: practice, teachers, performances, and otherwise relatively normal lives. What a concept.

How doth The Company battle cliches? Let me count the ways:

1) The "big" number, which would surely have culminated as some kind of glorious performance in any other movie, is somewhat of a joke, here -- a pretentious idea called "The Blue Snake," which actually ends with an onstage mechanical giant eating the dancers. But the dancers themselves know it's pretty silly -- the point here is that they go through with it in as professional a manner as possible, and the end result is still made beautiful by their efforts.

2) The main character, Ry (Neve Campbell), is not the complete center of attention. Her life is offered as an example of one dancer's life -- a balancing act between training hard, earning a living, and finding a way to exercise social needs in between. Her big dance actually occurs before the halfway point of the film (and, yes, that's really her dancing -- Campbell shows off her real-life experience). In the final performance, the audience will be surprised at what happens to her, and what her reaction is.

3) Dancers are depicted as real people. They work, train, play, and sleep. They are not anorexic -- they are toned and muscular. They don't bicker among themselves, don't form petty jealousies when they're not dancing, and are actually capable of being supportive of one another. In one painful scene, a dancer injures herself, and her face expresses devastation, but she doesn't cry. In the next scene, she's in the wings, watching her understudy without the normally required malice in her eyes.

4) The film features some of the most elegant ballet footage   I've seen, from the opening title sequence, to Campbell's performance in a storm, to a solo on a swing that practically brought me to tears. Altman and his cinematographer Andrew Dunn do justice to the performances by following the dancers' movements, focusing on grace and not the crowd-pleasing explosiveness often filmed today. This ballet movie  actually highlights ballet's beauty and the ability to use physical discipline to connect with an audience's inner emotions. It avoids the chance to show off slick choreography.

5) Perhaps the film's ultimate cliche-buster is its "Altman-ness." The Company has no traditional story. It's observational -- not my favorite kind of movie, but it works well here as we eavesdrop on the Joffrey professionals. For this reason alone, I fear the movie won't be received well by the moviegoing public. Hollywood knows people want drama, which explains why a subject like this, one viewed as non-mainstream and unapproachable to most of the 18 to 34-year-old demographic, is often infused with an overdose of drama. I'm glad Altman has tried something radically different. Dance isn't about puffed-up stories; it's about expression through a rigorous, demanding art, one that commands a fierce loyalty from those who practice it, and The Company honors that.

(Released by Sony Pictures Classics and rated "PG-13" for brief stong language, some nudity and sexual content.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.