SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Widow: Simone David Morse

Lise: Nao Sakuma

Colas: Iain Mackay

Thomas: Jonathan Payn

Alain Robert: Gravenor
 

Birmingham Royal Ballet's supremo David Bintley hinted in the programme that the timing of this revival of La Fille mal gardée might coincide with a touch of spring. But the Birmingham weather for the first performance of its brief run on Mar 2^nd 2011 was decidedly wintry. What was evident was the bounce in the step of the corps dancers of the BRB and a release of genuine warmth from their performance. It is a whopping 51 years since the Frederick Ashton version of this romcom first hit the floor; its history at the Birmingham Hippodrome is almost as long and judging by the smiling faces and spontaneous laughter from the packed house, it had lost none of its appeal. And it was a real team effort - on stage, behind the scenes and in the pit.

What is it about this ballet that makes it so lovable? Being a family show helps! Then there is its transparent story and collection of enchanting incidents that go to make up the whole. Act I got off to a cracking start. Despite the Frenchness of the named protagonists, the initial frontage design of Osbert Lancaster was quintessentially English and the Sinfonia added to the colours of his landscape. Our escort into the first scene was a flashy cockerel and four chickens - their free range of movement and playful demeanour clearly depicting an era long before any battery-hen concepts. In Widow Simone's farmyard, Lise was dreaming of Colas, the love of her life, pinning up a ribbon on the barn door. This symbol of her love became a delightful thread throughout Ashton's interpretation: noticed by Colas he ties it to his staff (without innuendo) using the proverbial lover's knot; whenever their dance steps drove them apart it served as the most delicate of lassoos to bring them back together, both physically and emotionally; as the pair broke from one of their many amorous clinches, the ribbon magically retained their attachment with a cat's cradle. And as the ribbons multiplied in the following ensemble numbers, so the metaphors continued thick and fast - love was 'reined in', while skipping ropes evoked carefree summer days and as their lips met yet again, the village gang drew a series of kisses across the stage. But Thomas, the prosperous vineyard owner, and farmer Simone had other ideas: a match that would unite their two businesses. That Lise might be persuaded to marry halfwit Alain was of course a non-starter. Enough of such frivolities,; it was time for all to bring in the harvest, and what better way for the good Widow to travel to the fields than by pony and trap? The biggest sigh of the evening from the audience was for the cuddly and well-behaved animal.

Act III in the farmhouse began with Lise and Mama at the spinning wheel. When Simone dozed off, the watchful Colas saw his chance for a further rendezvous with Lise, but there was an intervening locked stable-type door. Able to open the top half, he leaned in and pulled her up into his arms, her quivering battement indicative of her pleasure. The harvesters brought in the hay bales and celebrated their rewards with a spectacular Morris dance. Left alone, Lise dreamt of married life with Colas. He made a dramatic appearance from within the piles of hay and the couple had their first tiff, on how many offspring there should be. When Simone was heard approaching, Lise whisked Colas upstairs into a bedroom. Suspicious Simone, in true Whitehall farce tradition, locks Lise in the same bedroom. Alain and father Thomas arrived with village notary and clerk to complete the contract. The intended groom was given the key to the bedroom; his hesitant passage up the stairs demonstrated that the village idiot was not macho enough for the delectable Lise. Eventually Simone realised she was beaten and it all ended happily-ever-after with more festivities around the maypole.