Christopher Wheeldon’s well-rounded Cinderella returns to the Royal Albert Hall

One pumpkin (family size), six mice (white), one clock face (extra large). The props for Cinderella are as central to the story as Siegfried’s crossbow or Sleeping Beauty’s spindle, but Christopher Wheeldon’s 2019 in-the-round version finds its own way to the happy ending. The Royal Ballet-trained choreographer dispenses with much of the usual paraphernalia, and Craig Lucas’s scenario differs substantially from the 1948 Frederick Ashton version on which Wheeldon was weaned.

The production’s latest revival is handsomely staged, with elegant sets and costumes by Julian Crouch and fast-moving projections by Daniel Brodie. Clever lighting by Natasha Katz guides the eye round the vast O of the Royal Albert Hall and helps make sense of the busy libretto which can sometimes sabotage the big moments. All very well having the disguised Prince fall for Cinderella in the back kitchen but it makes a nonsense of his coup de foudre when she first enters the ballroom.

Charles Perrault’s 1697 tale was first balletised 1813, and there have been countless readings ever since by choreographers keen to capitalise on the feelgood tale of a grubby drudge given a prince-winning makeover. Various scores have been tried (Mozart, Rossini, Johann Strauss) but Wheeldon — like Ashton, Nureyev, Matthew Hart, Alexei Ratmansky et al — was seduced by Prokofiev’s bittersweet 1945 masterpiece, splendidly played here by Gavin Sutherland and the ENB Philharmonic.

The orchestra is tucked under the organ and cloaked by a gauze scrim which doubles as a screen for Brodie’s baroque facades, skies clotted with stars and clouds scudding across the moon. The wingless Albert Hall is always a challenge, but sets and props are whizzed in and out of view by Wheeldon’s four black-clad Fates, who combine their role as Cinderella’s fairy godmother with more mundane dressing and scene-shifting duties — like the “invisible” kuroko in a kabuki play.

Having pensioned off the godmother — a plum female role — Wheeldon compensates by having his Ugly Sisters danced by women. This can be a risk — slapstick can carry a whiff of misogyny — but the writing is just the right blend of klutzy virtuosity in the tradition of Ashton’s Alain in La fille mal gardée or the drunk scene in Kenneth MacMillan’s Manon. Katja Khaniukova, as the bespectacled Clementine, combined masterly comic timing with genuine pathos. Her duet with the Prince’s sidekick (the polished Ken Saruhashi) all but stole the show. Wheeldon’s vast ensembles resist the obvious, breaking up the kaleidoscope with a pleasing mix of lines and circles.

Erina Takahashi, five parts silk chiffon, five parts carbon steel, was a fleet, sweet heroine partnered by Francesco Gabriele Frola. His costume — white tights, scarlet bum-freezer, half a mile of gold frogging — was weirdly Nutcracker Prince, but his solos were an exercise in airy grandeur and he coped well with the often fussy pairwork. As if conscious that his dialogues are bordering on the generic, Wheeldon attempts to inject excitement with yet another lift. Audiences like these (I blame TV dance competitions), but you do wish he’d put the poor girl down occasionally.

★★★★☆

To June 25, ballet.org.uk