What makes Odette’s arc so compelling is the subversion of the “older mentor” trope. Delacroix is not trying to save Elise; she is trying to destroy the part of Elise that reminds her of her own lost youth. In one brutal scene, Odette forces Elise to repeat a fouetté en tournant 147 times until her toenails bleed through the satin. The camera lingers on Odette’s face—not with cruelty, but with a terrifying maternal longing. She wants Elise to break so badly that she rebuilds into something immortal.
Critics have noted that Odette Delacroix represents the pre-#MeToo era of ballet: the dictatorial, sexually ambiguous, chemically dependent genius who believes that suffering is the only true pedagogy. Her speech halfway through the film is already being quoted in drama schools: “You think the audience pays to see you happy? No, child. They pay to see the moment you realize you are dying.” If Odette is the storm, Elise Graves is the ship trying not to shatter. Actress Mia Holland trained for 14 months for this role, learning en pointe from former Royal Ballet principal Lorena Feijoo. The result is visceral. Elise’s body is a text of scars: a botched bunion surgery, a hairline spinal fracture from Part One , and now, the psychosomatic paralysis.
Do not see this film if you are squeamish about blood, broken bones, or emotional demolition. But if you want to understand why ballet is called “the art of the cross”—the intersection of agony and grace—buy a ticket. Bring tissues. And never, ever look away. Breaking.Pointe.Part.Two..Odette.Delacroix..Elise.Graves
The film’s most innovative sequence—the “Mirror Pas de Deux”—features Elise dancing against a hologram of Odette’s younger self. It is a five-minute uninterrupted shot where Elise’s face cycles through rage, ecstasy, despair, and finally, a blank, dissociative peace. When she lands a final grand jeté and her leg snaps audibly, the audience in the test screenings reportedly gasped for air.
Breaking.Pointe.Part.Two..Odette.Delacroix..Elise.Graves is now streaming on ArtHouse Digital and playing in select 70mm engagements. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. What makes Odette’s arc so compelling is the
But the film also subverts the male gaze. There are no lecherous directors, no predatory producers. The violence is entirely internal, female-on-female, but not in a catty Black Swan way. It is existential. Odette and Elise are fighting for the same thing: proof that they existed, that their suffering meant something. In the final scene (spoiler alert, but the film has been out for two weeks), they perform The Dying Swan together. Odette, unable to dance, sits on a throne and conducts with a cane. Elise, bleeding into her costume, dances not for the audience but at Odette. It is a conversation, a duel, and a eulogy.
In the last frame, Elise takes a bow. Odette does not applaud. She just stares. Then, a single tear cuts through her foundation. Cut to black. The search term Breaking.Pointe.Part.Two..Odette.Delacroix..Elise.Graves has exploded on forums like Reddit’s r/TrueFilm and Letterboxd. Fans are dissecting every frame. There are theory threads suggesting that Odette and Elise are the same person (a Fight Club interpretation), or that Elise is a ghost (the lighting often makes her translucent). But the consensus is clear: this is not a “dance movie.” It is a horror film wearing a tutu. The camera lingers on Odette’s face—not with cruelty,
picks up three years later. Odette has become a ruthless, alcoholic choreographer in Berlin. Elise, now a principal dancer, suffers from imposter syndrome so severe she has developed conversion disorder—her legs give out without warning mid-pirouette. The two are forced to collaborate on a radical, degenerative version of Swan Lake titled “The Dying Swan: A Requiem.” Odette Delacroix: The Scourge of the Barre Odette Delacroix is no longer the victim. In Part Two , she has transformed into an anti-heroine. Her teaching methodology is sadistic: she locks Elise in a rehearsal studio for 48 hours with no food, only a metronome and a mirror. She whispers, “Pain is just perfection leaving the body.”