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Bourne's Clara, danced by Etta Murfitt, begins her story in the physical and emotional poverty of an orphanage of the unwanted; the dream is an escape to better things. Her real life is the nightmare; it is the dream that leads to hope. There's a whiff of Jane Eyre's early childhood, but none of Jane's quiet acceptance.

Anthony Ward's sets and costumes for act one are all in shades of black and white underlining the austerity of the orphanage bedroom dormitory, letting the dancing and action supply the color. The interaction of the inhabitants of this bleak house, the dozens of instances of shared humiliations, results in a bonding of shared pathos. We have all been waifs and strays at one time, in various guises, and this level of emotional deprivation calls to the heart. Thus, we can all rejoice at the rebellion of the children.

The character of the Matron (Annebelle Dalling) and Dr. Dross (Adam Galbraith) are familiar as are the arrogant brats, Sugar (Michela Meazza) and Fritz (Neil Penlington). Every school and school play yard has had these bullies with whom we have all contended and remember the rest of our lives. So, through this ballet, though the exact circumstances may not be part of our remembered wrongs, each is familiar and still part of painful childhood memories.
 

Matthew Bourne's Nutcracker!
from the 2003 London show
© John Ross

The choreographer never hesitates in his inventions which are as much action as dance, as dance and action, some overt and large, but many small and familiar; human interaction running the gamut of emotion. Small things, small interchanges, all give additional texture and offer the viewer much to watch and in which to indulge. One isn't aware of creative choreography being created, it just romps along.

Many times I have found myself patiently (or less so) waiting to get through the first scene of classic "Nutcracker," the oft repeated jokes of the grandparents, the various characterizations of Clara's family, her boisterous cousins, and the particularly obstreperous boy who tears apart her Nutcracker toy doll. Bourne dispenses with all this and instead gives us much else to contemplate: the unholiday environment of unwanted children during a holiday season. Then he narrows it to one particular girl's escape into a dream world where she finds the love and release she seeks.

This is not the delicate romance of the classic "Nutcracker." This is the robust dream of a needy girl. Alan Vincent's role as Nutcracker oozed machismo in the first act and continued in the second act with a virile portrayal of a man, not only in love, but with solutions to problems. He solves Clara's problem by engineering their escape from the orphanage where they find themselves when the dream has finished. There was real connection, both visual and tactile, between Clara and the Nutcracker, which is often lacking in modern renditions of classical ballet and which I sorely miss.

Michela Meazza as both Sugar and Princess Sugar, is long limbed with more obvious classical training, at times her body simply assumes the classic shapes while going through the contemporary/character lines. Her partner, Prince Bon Bon (Neil Pennington) was engaging, though a tad short for her, but then this is not classical ballet - so, no matter.
 

Matthew Bourne's Nutcracker!
© Catherine Ashmore

The sets and costumes for the second act's Road to Sweetland and Sweetland itself, is like seeing the world through the kaleidoscope of another person's imagination. Constant reminders of the actual licking and chewing process of consuming sweets are humorously overt but eventually slightly overdone. On the other hand, isn't that the stuff of dreams? This act is a riot of raucous color: bold, strong and fun.

Bourne certainly has given lovers of theater and dance something to chew on, savor and see again. I would in a heartbeat.

The music was taped and unfortunately, as seems to be so often the case with taped music, aural madness. I've learned through past pain to always bring earplugs and using them brought the level of sound within bearable range though my seat and the floor continued to vibrate. I can only think that whoever sets these levels must be deaf.