Steven McRae Talks About His Documentary, Resilient Man

February 19, 2025

Steven McRae seemingly had an effortless rise to stardom. After winning the Prix de Lausanne in 2003, he graduated from the Royal Ballet School into their main company in 2004 and was promoted to principal dancer only five years later, in 2009. But after McRae ruptured his Achilles tendon onstage during a performance of Manon in 2019, filmmaker Stéphane Carrel saw the perfect moment to draw back the curtain on the challenges he faces, specifically the struggle to recover from injury and burnout in the middle of the pandemic. The result is Resilient Man, an intimate documentary that will have its New York City premiere at the 2025 Dance on Camera Festival on February 21.

After catching a screening of Resilient Man in London, I spoke to McRae about what he hopes audiences will learn from the film.

Can you tell us about Resilient Man and how this project came together?

I met Stéphane Carrel many years ago through fashion designer Paul Smith. It turns out Paul told Stéphane to contact me and make a film about me, but I wasn’t really interested in doing a cliché “life of a dancer” documentary. We went back and forth on some other ideas, but then, when I snapped my Achilles, Stéphane thought, “Okay, this is perfect—we have our story now.” Even though it was a horrible situation, we knew that this journey would highlight a lot of different, important topics that I’m passionate about.

The challenge with a documentary that follows real life is that you can’t know what will happen. Right after we got permission to film [from the Royal Opera], the pandemic started, and Stéphane was stuck in Paris. We weren’t even allowed in the Opera House at that time. Eventually, we were able to start filming, and it was a great honor that [Royal Ballet artistic] director Kevin O’Hare trusted us enough to allow us to film a lot behind the scenes.

Steven McRae wears a yellow and black towel around his waist and sits on a bench with each leg in an ice bucket. He places his hands on his knees and looks down, his shoulders lifted.
Photo courtesy Obscured Pictures.

The Royal Ballet has an incredible medical facility and staff. Can you tell us about some of the work they do and why it’s important?

We’re lucky that we have a medical team on hand, full-time, supporting all 100 dancers in the company. We are one of a very few companies in the world that have this. Part of my desire to do this film was to highlight the importance of facilitating this kind of support across all [dance] companies and educational institutes, and somehow coming together so that even small, local studios can have access to this information and education on health and well-being.

The medical team at The Royal Ballet has been absolutely instrumental in getting me back from these big injuries—the physical therapists, psychologists, sports scientists, Pilates instructors, ballet coaches. We created an environment where we can all openly say, “None of us have the answers.” We all dream of being the one person who can fix everything, but by working together as a team, we can achieve so much more.

These teams are not just for after an injury occurs—we need this level of support all the time, whether it’s psychological or physical. Some people view outside training or new developments in treatment as something that will distract from the art, but, really, developments from the world of sport, like what our medical team is using at The Royal Ballet, shouldn’t be seen as a hindrance. We should see them as performance-enhancing.

This film shows your life outside of the studio. How did you feel about your family being involved in this film?

It was so important for me to show that side, because without my family I would have crumbled. They continue to be the driving force behind everything I do.

It also shows the challenge of balancing work and life. I have three little people who need me and my wife. It’s important for people to see me beyond the product they see onstage or what they might know from a rehearsal. When you’re learning how to walk again with three young children in the house, it’s certainly not the “norm.”

The film chronicled your training and early career, including leaving your home in Australia to train at the Royal Ballet School. How did this move impact you?

I think homesickness is something that doesn’t get talked about enough. Dancers embark on careers and move away from home at a far younger age than most young adults. The homesickness was debilitating for me. And I don’t think it’s something you’re ever fully at peace with—like, yes, now I have my own family on the other side of the world here in London, but you always know you had to sacrifice that day-to-day life that you would have potentially had if you stayed closer to home. I just wanted to be honest and vulnerable with the audience.

It’s also part of a larger conversation about mental health and burnout. Ballet is a young industry, and you have young people already experiencing burnout because they leave home and begin working in such a high-level environment right away. I hope the industry can come together and have conversations about how to support young artists and make some changes.

Steven McRae and Sarah Lamb, wearing practice clothes, rehearse a pas de deux in a dance studio. McRae holds Lamb around the waist with his left hand as she arabesques closely towards him. They look at each other, their outside arms extended to the side.
McRae with Royal Ballet principal Sarah Lamb in a scene from Resilient Man. Photo courtesy Obscured Pictures.

How do you think this film can empower audiences to inspire these changes within their dance communities or even themselves? What kind of conversations are you hoping it sparks?

The striving to achieve excellence—it has always been assumed that to do that, you run the risk of burnout. By the time you achieve what you want to achieve, you’re basically destroyed. It’s been accepted across so many industries, and I would love for that to be challenged. Can’t we achieve this high level of excellence with physical and mental health at the forefront?

Within the industry itself, I hope people see we need to change the ways we engage with and treat each other. We get caught up in our self-worth being based on body image or how good our last performance was. The second we get injured or ill, we think we’re totally useless, and that’s not the case. We are full humans on a constant journey of discovery, and everything you’ve learned doesn’t get erased because you’ve gotten injured or you’ve put your hand up to say, “I need support.” I would love for dancers to feel empowered to speak up for themselves and ask for help or guidance.

How has your perspective changed after your injury and after making this film?

I’ve become very protective of myself and my colleagues. I am open to saying to them, “Take a step back if you’re struggling.” It’s okay to take a day off. I’ve learned to be more efficient with my time; if we have a goal for the rehearsal and we’ve achieved it, I will end the rehearsal early. I’m far more accepting of my current limitations and expectations.

I see this film as a celebration of the support I have here at The Royal Ballet, but also a celebration of the art form. We wouldn’t do all of this if it wasn’t for something extraordinary. It shows the grit and resilience required of any young dancer who wants to enter this profession, but it also shows what that results in: that extraordinary experience for the artist and the audience.

International streaming information for Resilient Man will be available following the BBC broadcast of the film, under the title Dancing into the Light, in March.