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I confess I was sceptical. For a while, the young generation of Russian dancers struggled with Grigorovich, especially Spartacus. It seemed that it needed dancers who understood the complexities of Soviet life and politics to make this multi-layered ballet work, but then, suddenly, it came to life again. There were still mutterings that the age of the great soloists was over; however impressive the technique, the grandeur and gravitas seemed to be missing. No longer - and what's more, it took a Cuban trained dancer who has spent most of his career with the Royal Ballet to bring it off.

Last night, the Bolshoi danced as they have not danced in twenty years. Strangers gaped wide eyed and grinned at each other in the intervals, speechless with wonder. British audiences, normally irritated by the Russian habit of taking curtain calls at the end of each act, clamoured and roared for the dancers after the explosive opening. Having seen a video snippet of Acosta's performance in Moscow, I was expecting the steps to be good , but Spartacus needs so much more. Well we got it - in spades. Vassiliev gave us the thinking Spartacus, Lavrosky the warrior, Mukhemedev the passion and power. Acosta managed to combine all these qualities and added an animal magnetism that again made one believe that the course of history would change and that Spartacus would win out after all. He looked a little uncertain at first in the huge Grigorovich lifts and his partnering with Antonicheva was a little sticky at first. After that, there was no looking back; most of the audience would have followed this Spartacus to the ends of the earth. His thinking was palpable and his understanding of the score second to none.
 

The Bolshoi orchestra, under the baton of Pavel Sorokin, were inspired and played as they have not played since Alghis Zhuraitis. Sorokin sighed, sang and breathed with the dancers and the orchestra were with them all, every step of the way. Grigorovich's use of the score does not always show it at its best or most subtle, but Sorokin brought out every nuance and gave the dancers plenty of scope for individuality and expression. Acosta's jumps looked as if they hovered at the top of their parabola because of Sorokin's timing (without distorting the tempi) and, in the third act, following the grand adagio, he highlighted the side drum, Acosta starting at every roll until one felt as if the Romans were leeching out of the very fabric of the theatre. The brass were allowed to wah seductively, almost as if it were Shostakovitch wielding his broadest brush, but never tipping over into brashness. If only there were the funding for this combination to make a recording of the full four and a half hour score, still unavailable on CD.

Not to be outdone, Maria Allash powered onto the stage and, although she waned a little in the second act, came into her own in the third and gave us an explosive and technically assured Aegina. She was not quite as well matched by Volchkov's Crassus who was rather under-energised and looked a little stiff in the back in the first act. By Act II he had warmed up but he lacks the total embodiment of power and evil and ambition that the great Maris Liepa gave us. Indeed, his has proved the hardest act to follow. Antonicheva has always given us a heartrending Phrygia, with her expressive arms and pliant spine. She wobbled a little in the Act III adagio but otherwise was foot-perfect and had some superb acting to bounce off in Acosta.
 

Grigorovich's Spartacus has always been an ensemble ballet, but it is easy to see the remainder of the Company as an impressive background with so many fireworks for the soloists. Last night, every single dancer created an individual character and they danced with their souls. The men rallied around Spartacus and then threw every ounce of their energy into the betrayal with the whores. The audience were pulled into the thick of celebrations, disappointments and battles. The precision of the patricians' dance was every bit as breathtaking as the Kingdom of the Shades, but oh so subtle. Even the tripping shepherdesses bounced with the joy of the promise of freedom under their new leader.

Costumes and lighting have been spruced up again - fetching greens for the slave girls in the opening and there seems to be more glitter added season by season. Amusingly, the political shift in the colours of the scarves continues, pink and orange being the in this year. Can Spartacus at least have his scarlet banner back please? The lighting was particularly sharp, with excellently lit gauzes - more red than usual - and two pools of light highlighting Aegina and Crassus in Act III as they play out their deadly finale.

A very, very special evening where I was sitting, a few feet away from the seat where I saw my first Spartacus at the age of twelve, with the original cast. For the first time, this performance almost lived up to that.