“I want her in my dreams.” These are the words of one of Pina Bausch’s dancers, as she speaks of the renowned German choreographer and dancer who died in 2009. Bausch, who had been the artistic director of Tanztheater Wuppertal for over 30 years, left behind an array of talented dancers and influential choreography. Wim Wenders’ 2011 film, PINA (3-D), features selections of Bausch’s dances (such as Café Muller, Kontakthof, and Le Sacre du Printemps), along with reflections from her dancers, as they reminisce on her legacy and their experiences working with her.

Albeit a film, the 3-dimensional aspect of PINA lends viewers an experience that is surprisingly real and tangible — the screen allows itself to be easily seen as a virtual stage by our subconscious, as translucent curtains float into the theater’s void. With such a feature, it is no wonder that a majority of the film showcases selections of Bausch’s choreography, but not enough commentary from her dancers to leave viewers much beyond a vague impression that Bausch, as an inventive choreographer and idiosyncratic person, gave valuable experiences and lessons to each of her dancers — a feat that is widely shared by many artists and choreographers.

Yet, the lack of commentary in the film cleverly allows for viewers to arrive at their own conclusions concerning Bausch and her art. A persistent woman, donning a rose red gown, first rolls up against a walking man’s legs, then wraps herself under his arms, but is always gracefully yet urgently led away. Adolescent boys and girls segregate themselves to opposite sides of the stage, only for the boys to inch increasingly closer with curiosity to the girls’ anxiously twitching bodies. The relationship between a man and a woman becomes strained, as an authoritative outsider, insistently peels back their entwined bodies, until the couple is left with nothing but the single automated act of repeatedly embracing and parting each other with fervor. Frightened women, alpha males, and a sacred red cloth – aggressively put on a shameful woman by an insistent man. Evidently, the selected performances in PINA are cleverly segmented and interlaced with each other to present lingering themes and metaphors that viewers can find personal meaning in, all the while accrediting and appreciating Bausch.