During La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet, director Frederick Wiseman’s leisurely immersion into the rhythms of the POB, the world outside of the company’s grand, historic home is irrelevant. If the company was not seen rehearsing The Nutcracker—along with several premieres and a repertory staple—one would have no idea what time of year it was. Wiseman and his crew roamed the studios, stage, offices, corridors, as well as the rooftop and the catacombs of the venerable Palais Garnier for three months in late 2007. In this eminent documentary filmmaker’s trademark style, the film offers an elegantly edited compilation without any information beyond what we see and hear, as though we too had an open pass to observe behind the scenes. No people or specific ballets are identified; we assume we are watching events progress in chronological order, especially since rehearsals gradually shift from the studios to the theater.

Considered one of the world’s leading classical ballet companies, the POB, which benefits from ample government subsidy, is a massive operation. Glimpses of the administrative staff, the amazing wardrobe and scenic facilities (where beads are painstakingly stitched onto a filmy skirt, and other details are carefully attended to) counteract the more familiar and expected impression of a performing arts venture as a fragile, fly-by-night operation.

The POB has centuries of history and tradition behind it, but this film focuses on the here and now; we never see or hear any reference to Rudolf Nureyev, for example, who was its director in the 1980s and cultivated a generation of étoiles (as the troupe’s upper echelon of dancers are called) that has pretty much left the stage. We do see one of the greatest of these, the sublimely elegant and radiantly pure Manuel Legris, in a few rehearsals, and lending suave dignity to a performance of Paquita, a frothy 19th-century bonbon.

Since the company is hardly ever seen locally nowadays (though two of its étoiles will appear as guests on New York City Ballet’s Nov. 24 opening night program), this opportunity to observe its current leading dancers as well as its impeccably schooled ensemble is most welcome. The film is richest in its rehearsal scenes, where the crucial interaction between dancer and ballet mistress (or master) is documented with fascinating intimacy. We watch as these maîtres de ballet (their official POB titles) provide the crucial guidance that shapes performances, whether it is guiding youngsters through centuries-old choreography or encouraging a tentative young ballerina to discover her inner Medea in a new dance portraying that Greek figure.

That ballet, by Angelin Preljocaj (and some of he other new works being nurtured in the Garnier studios during the weeks of filming) does not inspire hope that artistic director Brigitte Lefevre is cultivating her excellent dancers in the most insightful way. Neither the Preljocaj nor a pretentiously awful La Maison de Bernarda by Mats Ek, require pointe shoes for the women. Both appear, from the excerpts shown, grim—straining for drama and incapable of using classical steps expressively. The POB has a wealth of Balanchine in its repertory, and cultivated a special relationship with Jerome Robbins, performing many of his ballets. Sadly, there is no hint of any of this in what we see, aside from a business meeting to discuss the perks to be offered when wealthy American $25,000 donors arrive for a planned Robbins gala. 

But if one approaches La Danse as a study of a rarefied realm and unique edifice rather than as a barometer of how classical ballet is faring in one of Europe’s dance capitals, there is much to savor. Who knew that a proletarian beekeeper plies his trade on the Palais Garnier roof? The camera’s silent travels along ancient stairwells, its focus on the marvelous details of studio windows and the exterior’s ornate décor, and the sweeping majesty of the empty 2,200-seat main theater, as a cleaning man picks up the previous evening’s trash and vacuums the expensive private box seats, all of these specific glimpses add up to a rich portrait. Even without any reference to (or view of) the famed POB School—where the hierarchical echelons of students famously known as “les petits rats” are developed into the streamlined, lustrous company members—we sense the tradition and responsibility of this special place.

La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet

At Film Forum, 209 W. Houston St. (betw. 6th & 7th Aves.), 212-727-8110.