“Nureyev: The Russian Years” brings the young Nureyev to new life, often by the camera lingering on his face in crucial moments. His face is a mask as reporters hurl unanswered questions in a news conference soon after his defection. But that mask fails to hide a struggle between protective secrecy at a frightening time and the lifelong pleasure Nureyev took in shameless flirtation with the world. And part of the attraction of Nureyev’s Western dancing lay in the sense it gave of physical struggle.

“What we are paid for is our fear,” he said, speaking of dancers. “That’s what makes it exciting. You transform in front of all those eyes.”

The re-enactment of the defection is among the documentary's better segments, returning to the airport, the narration enhanced by French dancer Pierre Lacotte.

There are some shortcomings. Kremke's footage, undeniably hypnotic, is brief, and the documentary falls back on modern shots of relevant locales in Russia, later clips from the West after his defection and even silly tourist images of trains in the modern countryside.

But the film delves into thorny aesthetic issues, notably Nureyev's gay-tinged break with Russian male ballet machismo, and it offers plenty of visual evidence of his astonishing barrel turns and speed. A clip of his Paris debut is as exhilarating as filmed dancing gets.

But Nureyev seduced the world not simply through his technique -- which, as the documentary's archival clips show, was not always flawless, even after he was crowned the Kirov's leading dancer -- but because of the danger, risk, animal drive and flamboyant sensuality he brought to the stage. As the film makes clear, those were honest qualities, part innate personality and perhaps partly fueled by political tensions. Drama and turbulence were Nureyev's constant companions until he died in 1993.

"The Russian Years," written and produced by John Bridcut and airing as part of the "Great Performances" series, capitalizes on that, unspooling its narrative as a romantic and political thriller. The documentary does get carried away with itself at times, cutting away from interviews to uninteresting present-day shots of theatergoers, for instance -- even overstepping rare (and delicious) footage of Nureyev vibrantly recalling his past.

Although the film is also richly peppered with beautiful color footage of Nureyev dancing in the 1960s with Margot Fonteyn and others, it is Kremke's shaky black-and-white film that we return to again and again.

We see Nureyev in "Laurencia," a Soviet Ballet, as well as "Swan Lake and "The Sleeping Beauty." His technique is explosive, even as a young man. It may have a rough edge here and there, but it's rather like the dance equivalent of Callas' singing: not necessarily step-perfect at every turn, but, far and away, not only great artistry, but the greatest.

"Nureyev: The Russian Years," on WQED tonight at 9, shows that formative time that made him the artist that he became.

It operates on two levels throughout the documentary. With photos and video of his home and student life, this BBC production in association with Thirteen/WNET New York re-creates the world where the young dancer grew up, politically and socially. Old friends, now free to speak, talk of his spirit, personality and burgeoning homosexuality.

Barrister Mark McAuley told the court his client did not lead a lavish lifestyle, did not do drugs and was not a gambler.

“She has given no reason or explanation,” he said.

Mr McAuley said he had no supporting documents but was instructed that his client was a ballerina in the Australian, Tokyo and Queensland Ballet companies.

He said after a bout with cancer, she had entered the fitness industry and became Queensland, Australian and world champion in aerobics.

Villella, often called America's most celebrated male ballet dancer and founder of the Miami City Ballet, told the El Paso Times last week he would speak on his career and the importance of ballet company to a city like El Paso. He was also scheduled to teach a master ballet class to young dance students.

Called Bahok - a Bengali word meaning "carrier" - the new work pits five dancers from Khan's own company against four members of the Chinese ensemble, in an attempt to explore the ways in which the body "carries" national identity and a sense of belonging.

The unofficial end of summer this weekend also marks the end of the free arts festivals around town. Fortunately, come September, several the city's top venues offer reduced prices on programs designed to introduce new audiences to the performing arts.