In this blog post, I’ll explore why I chose Wim Wenders’ ‘Pina’, starting from my interest in dance and movement; I’ll also examine key sequences in the film, the movements of Pina Bausch and the Wuppertal Dance Company, the unique use of documentary style and sound, and my reflections on Pina’s ability to create fantasy on stage.

“Pina”: A Choice Rooted in an Interest in Art and Movement

Where does art begin? This was the most fundamental question I asked myself after deciding to pursue filmmaking. I had heard countless times that art is about play. But I didn’t really know what “play” meant exactly. Then, by chance, I had the opportunity to learn movement—not specifically dance, but movement itself. Don’t they say that all art begins with poetry (writing), song, and dance (or acting)? At least during the time I spent learning that movement, I felt free and had a lot of fun.
It was the moment when the realization that the human form could be so beautiful and graceful truly took root. From then on, I developed a deep interest in dance and, by extension, the stage. Around that time, I watched ‘Pina’ out of curiosity, and it came as yet another refreshing shock, prompting me to rewatch it several times.
In some ways, choosing this film—which has almost no dialogue and a vague storyline—might not have been the best decision. But if you look closely, Pina and her dancers, as they were in life, are speaking to us in an even more subtle language. That is why I chose to analyze this film.

Pina and the Wuppertal Dance Company: A Story Told Through the Body

The film opens with the production company’s logo. As the “NEUE ROAD MOVIES” logo appears, accompanied by an opening track, we see the exterior of Pina’s Grand Theater and footage of Pina behind the empty stage. Then, a member of the Wuppertal Dance Company appears. One of them carries an accordion and delivers a monologue about the seasons. Soon after, members of the Wuppertal Dance Company appear, dancing to symbolize the seasons. Then, the red title “Pina” appears on the screen. The music fades out, and people come out to spread dirt evenly across the floor.
As the screen dissolves to the next scene, the music resumes. A woman appears lying on a red cloth spread out on the dirt floor, and soon other women appear one by one. They spread out widely, each maintaining her own form, and perform flexible, free-flowing dances. Using the red cloth as a prop, they gather into a group, after which they perform a group dance that is the opposite of what came before—a straight-lined, rigid choreography. At the same time, archival footage is shown of Pina instructing actual dance company members during her lifetime. Soon, a group of men joins them, and they perform a group dance that appears even more intense, linear, and at times even violent. The scene then returns to an empty stage.
In an interview with a member of the Wuppertal Dance Company, Pina is briefly discussed; music begins to play again, and soon her short piece titled “Fiducia” begins. She dances a piece in which she trusts a man, throws herself toward the floor, gets back up, and falls again. Before the dance ends, an interview with the male dancer who performed with her plays in the background, leading naturally into his interview. This is followed by footage of her physically demonstrating how she used to express words as a full moon. The background music remains the same.

Dancers Connecting “Café Müller” and Pina’s Memories

Members of the Wuppertal Dance Company gather to watch footage of Pina’s interviews and performances of “Café Müller” on a projector. The dancers then recreate the scenes from “Café Müller” exactly as seen in the footage, arranging chairs, building small models, and even holding a meeting. In the subsequent performance of “Café Müller,” everything—the chairs, the people, everything—unfolds exactly as discussed in the meeting.
The music inserted into an interview scene featuring a male dancer plays first. Soon, the man’s dance sequence begins. We see the man dancing with a dog in a park, and when the interview scene returns, he speaks about a man named Kazuo Ohno. He explains that Ono, too, had recently passed away. Then, in ‘Café Müller’, the male dancer performs the piece that Ono had once danced.
The setting changes, and a dancer is seen stacking chairs high, while a woman and a man walk through the space between them. An interview clip of the dancer who was stacking the chairs appears, in which he discusses Pina’s insight. Returning to ‘Café Müller’, the man performs a dance that seems to guide the two men and women. An interview scene with another man appears, and he speaks about Pina’s leadership. A scene of that man’s solo dance is shown. Returning to ‘Café Müller’ once more, the male dancer also performs at ‘Café Müller’.
Afterward, the screen turns black and white, and archival footage of Pina performing in ‘Café Müller’ is shown. As the scene fades out, a man and a woman are seen discussing a model of ‘Café Müller’, followed by more archival footage of Pina. When the film returns to the present, a dancer resembling Pina takes over her role and continues the dance. Explanatory scenes depicting the members of the ‘Café Müller’ ensemble and the space are shown in sequence, followed by interview footage of the dancers and their solo dance performances.
Pina wanted to portray the longing and loneliness of a man and a woman in the familiar setting of a café.

Movement Extending Beyond the Stage and ‘Kontakthof’

The screen shows a passing subway train. Inside that train is a male dancer wearing donkey ears; soon, the train comes to a stop, and a female dancer boards. The two continue their movements there, offstage. The music from the opening sequence plays in the background, and as the train carrying the two passes by, members of the Wuppertal Dance Company walk out, performing the seasonal movements they first danced.
An interview clip of the male dancer at the very front of the group is shown, followed by footage of his solo dance. The train reappears, and a female dancer appears, dancing beneath it. Midway through her dance, an interview clip of the woman is shown; she is dancing on the street, not on a stage. The sound design also faithfully captures the on-site sounds of passing cars and car horns.
The screen shows the interior of a theater, where the Wuppertal dancers perform “Kontakthof.” Described as a work that sensually portrays primal human emotions, “Kontakthof” is said to evoke feelings of both joy and loneliness throughout the performance. The dancers move with intense energy. Throughout “Kontakthof,” the film continues to show clips of the Wuppertal dancers’ performances.
The soundtracks for each dance always play before the dance itself begins. The scene shifts back to the earlier point in time, showing the Wuppertal company members watching footage of Pina from when she was alive. In the footage, Pina is constantly holding a cigarette, and as the film progresses, she appears increasingly drained of energy.

The Emotions of Fear and Love Expressed in “Full Moon”

A scene from “Full Moon” that follows directly from the movements of “Kontakthof” via a dissolve. During the “Full Moon” performance, interview footage of the dancers is also shown. They are all talking about the piece and Pina.
The Wuppertal dancers bring ‘Full Moon’ to life: they pour water over a rock to depict wind and rain, and perform a raw dance in which they struggle against their inner world of terror and fear amidst the storm, ultimately yearning for love.
Interviews with the dancers continue even while they are on stage. Following each interview, a solo dance performance by the interviewed dancer is featured. The pattern of playing the music for the solo dance in advance, before the interview ends, is repeated throughout.
The screen returns to the “Full Moon” performance, where the scene of the raging storm has reached its climax. Though the dancers appear to be performing their own individual dances in the water, their lines and movements come together as a single, unified form.
As the stage fades out and changes, a female dancer is shown running while tied to a rope. An interview clip of that woman plays, and after her dance, another woman walks out from beyond the door, carrying a log on her back. As the screen fades out again, we see a woman sprinkling sand on another woman. The audio from the interview plays first, followed by footage of the woman being showered with sand. When the screen cuts back to the stage, the woman’s dance continues.

The Beautiful Pina, and the Final Dance

A female dancer and a male dancer walk out, and the male dancer lies down on the female dancer’s back as if climbing onto her. In the distance, the woman carrying the tree from the previous sequence can be seen. The music that quietly played during the opening, describing the seasons, begins, and the members of the Wuppertal Dance Company—who danced to the themes of the seasons in the opening and middle sections—are shown walking out in a line.
The camera gradually zooms out, and the footage is projected onto the stage of the grand theater that was shown at the beginning. The footage soon shifts to a solo dance performance by Pina. As the projection screen rises, the credits roll and Pina’s voice is heard in narration.

“Dance, dance, otherwise we are lost.”

The music of “Kontakthof” resumes, and dancers are shown performing the “Kontakthof” dance. The screen fades to black.

A biographical documentary that explores Pina through the body

‘Pina’ is a classic biographical documentary created by director Wim Wenders—a friend of the legendary dancer Pina Bausch—along with her dancers and members of the Wuppertal company to honor her memory. While the film as a whole doesn’t seem to have a specific plot, it becomes clear that it tells a story that goes beyond the narrative through the body.
By interweaving interviews with the company members between dance sequences, the film paints a portrait of Pina. It is an excellent biographical documentary that explores Pina’s legacy through the dances she created during her lifetime and interviews with those closest to her. There is likely no better way to discover the essence of a dancer than through the dances she created while alive.

The Unique Form of ‘Pina,’ Shaped by Sound and the Passage of the Seasons

What stands out most in ‘Pina’ is undoubtedly the use of lead-in sound and the way the dancers in Wuppertal dance through the changing seasons, a theme that runs throughout the film. Of course, there are other excellent dance sequences worth mentioning, but I believe these two elements are what give the film its freshness and set it apart from other documentaries.
In ‘Pina’, the sound—whether from an interview or a dance sequence—always precedes the visuals. Yet this never feels jarring; the transition is incredibly natural, much like moving from one dance step to the next.
The Wuppertal dancers, who dance the seasons, appear three times: in the opening sequence, near the end of the film’s two major sequences, and in the closing sequence. This gives the impression that they run through the entire film, leading me to believe that the seasons might be the film’s hidden central theme. It seems the film wanted to tell the story of Pina, who danced through the four seasons, and the company members who danced alongside her.

Pina Bausch, who created fantasy on stage

Pina Bausch was not strictly confined to the theater. She danced in any outdoor location, turning it into a theater, and often sought out venues that suited her dance style. However, when she staged a performance in a theater, she completely transformed the space into the fantastical setting she envisioned.
In the piece titled “Full Moon,” she depicted the moon using only the dancers’ movements and a single rock. Pina Bausch was interpreted not merely as a dancer, but as someone who created fantasies and brought them to life in reality.

The Work That Reignited My Passion for Documentary Filmmaking

The film ‘Pina’ is a deeply meaningful work that sparked my interest in feature-length documentaries. As I mentioned earlier, there was a time when I was deeply fascinated by dance, and since I encountered this film during that period, it captured my attention; however, it is such a captivating work that I would likely have been thoroughly captivated by it even without that personal connection.
I felt that every single dancer was indispensable to the creation of the piece—that they were both a part of it and the whole. I was thrilled by their movements, their breathing, and the lines of their arms, and I found myself thinking, “I want to make a film like this.”
I’m very interested in documentaries. In fact, I’ve even filmed a medium-length documentary in Japan titled “Behind the Scenes: OFF the Record,” which was screened locally—so I’m just as interested in making them as I am in watching them.
For someone like me, “Pina” remains a film that has reignited my passion for documentary filmmaking.