The camera loves a kinetic object — consider the titular red balloon, wafting through Paris streets, in Albert Lamorisse’s 1956 short. But it’s the dancing human form that has most reliably held our collective attention, going back to the “Serpentine Danse” films (circa 1895), which render a performer’s swirling dress in hand-tinted pastels. We’re drawn to spectacle and talent, which can feel infectious, to the ways movement can carry an emotional charge or shape a narrative and to a specific kind of movie magic. While live dance is inherently ephemeral, in the same way that “you can’t catch the wind,” as the art historian and curator RoseLee Goldberg says, film does just that, preserving steps in time. In search of a dance-inspired watch list for summer, we asked 10 people working in performance to share the movies that replay in their minds and have even colored their own work.

“Beau Travail,” Claire Denis, 1999

Celia Rowlson-Hall, 42, choreographer and director

I first watched “Beau Travail” about a decade ago, and it was one of those moments where I was equal parts grateful that this movie existed and wishing I’d been the person to make it. The final scene with Denis Lavant [playing a sergeant in the French Foreign Legion] is the most explosive two-minute dance — every move he makes is filled with such specificity and intention. But what’s even more exciting to me is the slow burn to that moment of release. The film opens in a nightclub, where the soldiers are dancing with local women. From there, you see the body being tested over and over again in this extreme desert landscape of Djibouti. The scenes where the men go through their training exercises are almost like a ballet: Whether they’re jumping over a wall or crawling under the wires, they’re all interpreting the task in a different way. And Claire Denis makes the most wonderful choice at the end: She cuts out on [Lavant] midturn and, in my mind, he keeps spinning there forever.

“West Side Story,” Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins, 1961

RoseLee Goldberg, art historian and curator

Throughout my childhood in Durban, South Africa, dance was my absolute focus. When “West Side Story” came out in 1961, I was obsessed. I saw it several times in the theater and even had pictures of George Chakiris [who plays Bernardo, the leader of the Puerto Rican gang] on my bedroom wall. The film, which followed a very successful Broadway production, is about race and conflict in New York, and about a young generation coming together and asserting their righteous place in the culture. For me, it was inseparable from what was happening in South Africa at that time. [The choreographer] Jerome Robbins became a hero of mine, in terms of where dance had to be and where it was going. There’s that scene in the gym where everyone’s standing in a different way: the Jets all bent over and the Sharks preening and throwing their skirts around. After seeing the film, you just wanted to walk down the street snapping your fingers.

“Swing!” Oscar Micheaux, 1938

Savion Glover, 52, dancer

Back when I was a precocious tot, [the tap dancer] Dianne Walker gave me a VHS tape of dance clips featuring everybody from the Nicholas Brothers to Groundhog to Sammy Davis Jr. When I bought a copy of “Swing!” recently, I recognized a picture on the DVD case of this woman doing soft-shoe and realized I’d been watching clips from this movie all my life. Oscar Micheaux was among the first Black filmmakers, and “Swing!” has everything: love and hate, dance and music. I could explain that it’s about a guy who runs off on his wife [and then she winds up starring on Broadway], but that’s too much to get into. What’s more important to know is that the sound bed is Black folk being fabulous. “Tap” (1989) [with Gregory Hines as a wayward dancer, and in which a teenage Glover appears ] doesn’t exist without Micheaux.

“Honey,” Bille Woodruff, 2003

Honey Balenciaga, 24, dancer and choreographer

My mother used to break-dance — spinning on her head, flips, all of it. I guess you could say it’s in my blood. But [the movie franchises] “Honey” and “Step Up” gave me a sense of the industry before I found my way into it. They’re how I learned the kind of artist I wanted to be. Jessica Alba [in the original “Honey”] wants to work in music videos. In “Step Up Revolution,” the dancers are battling this company that’s trying to gentrify the community and kick out the mom-and-pop shops. I relate to these characters because they often don’t have the right resources or the right technique, but they still figure out how to use their art as a form of storytelling and activism and love. When I got into ballroom, I had to choose a name. My trans mother and I were binge-watching the “Honey” movies, and she was like, “You vogue so sweet, like honey.” I realized it was my Honey moment — I was stepping into this new era as a performer.

“Opening Night,” John Cassavetes, 1977

Maria Hassabi, 52, choreographer, performer and visual artist

John Cassavetes was always pushing his characters to their edge, and Gena Rowlands in “Opening Night” is so real. Even though it’s a film and not a live performance, you feel her presence. The story has a lot to do with this performer aging, and it’s the opening scene that’s been a big influence on me. There’s a still image of [Rowlands], with her arms spread wide. It’s this very classical idea of the performer receiving the audience. You see the people in the theater and hear them applauding and laughing. In the voice-over, which is paired with a beautiful soundtrack, she talks about how emotions used to be so easy to tap into, but with time that’s become more difficult. My 2023 work “On Stage” was very minimal, and I used that same open-armed gesture. I hadn’t done a solo piece for many years, so it was a conscious return to being at the front of the stage.

“The Wiz,” Sidney Lumet, 1978

Nick Cave, 67, artist

I was studying at the Kansas City Art Institute when “The Wiz” came out. It’s an interpretation of “The Wizard of Oz,” reconstructed with an all-Black cast and set in an urban environment. I see it as a reflection on the importance of family and a [reminder] that we already have what we need to be relevant. All these interests of mine — performance, fashion, art — came together in the movie’s Emerald City scene. The dominant color of clothes and décor [as dictated by Oz] shifts from green to red to opulent gold, and each time, the music builds. There’s this procession with dancers who might have been kids from Alvin Ailey and costumes by a collective of designers. As a queer Black man, I found it so electric, the idea of peacocking and gliding through space with your head up. Four years ago, I collaborated with my brother Jack on a fashion performance in Chicago called “The Color Is,” which was inspired by this sequence. It was really fabulous.

“Dance, Girl, Dance,” Dorothy Arzner, 1940

Charles Atlas, 77, artist and filmmaker

In the late 1990s [the choreographer and performer] Richard Move had a once-a-month club where they’d invite everyone from the dance world to perform on a little stage in [New York’s] Meatpacking District. I used to show a half-hour of dance clips to start the night, and “Dance, Girl, Dance” made it in. It’s a B-movie musical set in the world of dance. Maureen O’Hara plays a ballet dancer, and Lucille Ball is a burlesque dancer named Bubbles — my favorite role of hers. They’re roommates and rivals. At one point, Ball is doing a hula number, and Maria Ouspenskaya, cast as a Russian teacher, tells O’Hara she doesn’t have the “oomph” to please the nightclub booker. The teacher later gets run over by a car, and her dying words [to O’Hara] are, “Dance, dance, dance.” Near the end, O’Hara, as the stooge ballerina in a burlesque show, is laughed at by the audience of mostly cigar-chomping men, and she shuts them down with a speech. It’s a feminist film, really — very brave for 1940.

“Nora,” David Hinton and Alla Kovgan, 2008

Jawole Willa Jo Zollar, 75, choreographer and professor

[The artist] Nora Chipaumire was a member of my company [Urban Bush Women] at the time that she was making “Nora,” which portrays a series of fictionalized events in her life through movement. At first I thought it was going to be more of a documentary, but it’s so poetic. There’s no speaking, only occasional lines of text shown onscreen, so the story leaves a lot of room for interpretation. In the opening scene, Nora is in red against this blue sky, running along the brown earth. She’s from Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, and they filmed nearby in South Africa. In another scene, she’s falling in love and eating a mango. The cinematography is just spectacular. Alla [Kovgan, who co-directed with David Hinton] is brilliant — she also did the Merce Cunningham film [“Cunningham” (2019)]. At one point, we see just the feet of the women dancing, which is a trope of dance films, but here it’s done in such a powerful way.

“Billy Elliot,” Stephen Daldry, 2000

Calvin Royal III, 37, dancer

I come from a military background on my dad’s side, and while my mom danced when she was a kid, no one in my family had gone down the path of becoming a professional dancer. When I watched “Billy Elliot” and saw how he discovered this calling haphazardly, it reminded me of myself. The movie takes place in a mining town during a strike, and Billy is facing these societal pressures around what a man is supposed to be. At first he hides that he’s doing ballet, but I love that he doesn’t judge himself — it’s his own quest. Later, after his father pulls him out of class, the only way Billy knows how to express himself is to dance out his frustration. I rewatched it the other night after a show, and the scene that most resonated with me was when his teacher gives him private lessons. It’s just the two of them at the barre, going through exercises. He finishes in fifth position, and it’s so symbolic of him rising up out of that pressure.

“Dancer in the Dark,” Lars von Trier, 2000

Ryan Heffington, 53, choreographer and director

There are so many incredible aspects of “Dancer in the Dark”: the musical element, the drama, the showcase of extremes in humanity. The film is heavy, of course — it’s Lars von Trier. But I love how, when dance is presented, it creates joy. Selma, the main character [played by Björk], wants to do her best for her son, who’s poised to inherit this blindness that she’s experiencing. Every dance sequence is sort of a daydream of hers — the choreographer Vincent Paterson, who’s iconic, rooted the movement style in old jazz, in a nod to the Hollywood musicals Selma is obsessed with. There’s just so much innocence in those scenes. They feel very honest in a way that represents how the character moves through life. Like her, we all desire escape. When the world’s on fire, a good film or dance takes you out of reality for a moment.

These interviews have been edited and condensed.