Thank goodness there are no singing mice in this one.
But there are, in fact, dancing pumpkins in tuxedos, an ever-present paparazzo, a matronly fairy godmother, and a sparkly slipper (or, in this case, sparkly Pointe shoe).
Boston Ballet presents "Cinderella," the classic story we've heard a bazillion times and still enjoy, despite its desecration over the years through numerous defiling versions starring such personages as Hilary Duff ("A Cinderella Story") and Brandy ("Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinderella"). Yet overexposure notwithstanding, Boston Ballet's delightful production ultimately attests to the timelessness of the tale and the music behind it.
Written by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev, it premiered in Moscow's Bolshoi Theater in 1945. Its musical structure is intricately woven with Prokofiev's typical sophistication. It's not a light ballet. One can hear darker subtleties even throughout the happy ending, but its overwhelming qualities are the expressiveness of strings, complexity of undertones and bright percussion throughout.
Unlike the thematic reiteration of his "Romeo and Juliet" (1936), Prokofiev wrote "Cinderella" as a continuum. He did not insert recurring themes, but rather pursued a choppier agenda - one that is perhaps more challenging to stage, but doubly rewarding psychologically.
James Kudelka's choreography is equally masterful; it is at once wistful, serious, humorous and emotional, working seamlessly with David Boechler's dreamy set, the costume design, and the dancers' excellent technique. The set is replete with rich tones and beautiful accents. One of the most brilliant moments of the show is when Cinderella arrives at the ball with her pumpkin coach that floats in from the ceiling as though by magic; the effect is as brilliant as the music to which it is set.
In many older interpretations of Prokofiev's score, the stepsisters are played by men for comic effect. Here, they're women (Melanie Atkins and Melissa Hough), but their antics are uproarious, in particular at the Prince's Ball. The sisters have maliciously droll chemistry with the rest of the cast - and each other - as they banter and shove, in their quest for riches and fame.
Add the prima-donna stepmother (Jennifer Glaze), and it's evident that Cinderella's immediate family members have a weakness for spirits (stepmom especially, but all three drink more than a frat boy on a Friday night). They also have a penchant for playing dress-up and annoying gentlemen; their uncanny getup and freshman-esque coquetry gets them kicked out of the ballroom numerous times.
The trio is delightfully awkward and haphazardly nasty; one almost feels bad for them at the end. In the Grimm Brothers' version of the story, the stepsisters get their feet cut off and eyes pecked out by birds as bloody punishment for their vices. Prokofiev and the Boston Ballet are not so vicious. The sisters and drunken mother are left unscathed, not counting, of course, the foot pain resulting from attempting to squeeze their bulky footsies into Cinderella's sparkly Pointe.
The Prince (Roman Rykine), unlike most versions of the story, has a bigger part in the ballet. The program notes that Kudelka drew inspiration for the character in England's Prince Charles, and accordingly, Rykine's Prince feels out of place with the posh royalty and longs for greater meaning in life. Conveying this angst through skill and stage presence, he shows that he needs Cinderella as much as she needs him.
Larissa Ponomarenko, as the beloved cindered waif, is perfect from the first scene both in technique and in character. This interpretation is more about Cinderella's psychological transformation and her relationship with Mr. Charming, rather than the traditional rags-to-riches deal. Ponomarenko understands her character's psyche. Cinderella is a hard worker and a dreamer naive and innocent, but emotional and passionate, too.
A phenomenal athlete, she has been a member of the Boston Ballet since 1993. For the duration of nearly the entire first act, Ponomarenko dances barefoot. She makes difficult jumps and spins look as light and effortless as if she were floating through air. And while most women complain about wearing heels, Ponomarenko magically completes a series of rapid, energizing pirouettes in the final act wearing only one Pointe shoe (before her Prince comes and gives her the rightful other one).
The challenge of ballet is to incorporate acting, pantomime, impeccable technique and classical music to convey a story - no easy task. Yet consistent with the company's excellent reputation, this production brilliantly accomplishes all that and more by relying on character depth. "Cinderella" makes even the biggest tutu cynic want to don tights and pli?© ?o the thrilling tunes of sparkly shoes and happy endings.
