Be careful what you wish for. It’s a useful tip at this gifty time of year – and also impels Matthew Bourne’s darkly romantic dance fable. The ballerina heroine achieves her dreams – artistic success, ardent love – and they break her into a thousand pieces.
The Red Shoes (first seen in 2016) cleaves closely to Powell and Pressburger’s dazzling 1948 movie, waving the banner for art as the world emerged from war. Victoria Page – young, posh and uncannily talented – wants more than anything to join the innovative company of impresario Boris Lermontov (modelled on Diaghilev and his Ballets Russes). Victoria is initiated into a troupe who, for all their stroppy rehearsals, ciggies drooping from lips, are dedicated to being extraordinary (Michela Meazza and Liam Mower shine as the negligently imperious stars). Victoria leads their expressionist new show, telling Hans Christian Anderson’s story of the red shoes which condemn their wearer to dance until she drops.
