The problem is, Don José, she’s just not that into you. Sure, she loves it when you spin her in multiple pirouettes, or sweep her over your shoulder, but for this Carmen (Laura Rodríguez) it’s never more than in-the-moment fun, she’s all spirit and impulse and impressively carefree dancing. All it takes is the appearance of a hunky toreador and off she runs, towards tragedy.
It’s a story that’s been told countless times, many of them in dance, since the original Prosper Mérimée novella in 1845. This Carmen was created by Cuban ballet star Carlos Acosta and it’s an expansion of a one-act ballet he made for the Royal Ballet in 2015, set to Rodion Shchedrin’s orchestration of Bizet’s opera score. Now it’s a full evening, danced by his Havana-based company Acosta Danza, with some added Cuban music, and its lively spirit is much better suited to the Cuban dancers who easily inhabit the world on stage.
The best scenes are with the ensemble, like the tavern at the opening of Act II, the dancers slapping a rhythm on the table with giddy whoops. It turns into a flamenco-Cuban-ballet-contemporary mashup, bursting with upfront energy, speed, cheekiness and an infectious sense of celebration.
Trying to bring something new to the story, Acosta is inventive in his eclectic smörgåsbord of steps, and has created a new character, The Bull (which he performs himself on opening night in a horned headdress). The Bull is an all-seeing figure, pulling the strings of the doomed protagonists. Acosta stands ominously inside the centrepiece of Tim Hatley’s stripped-back set, a giant glowing ring like a solar eclipse. Later he dances a scrappily gladiatorial pas de deux with Carmen, like she is in a bullfight with fate.
As we know from Acosta Danza’s previous visits to the UK, this is a company of fantastic dancers (Denzel Francis is impressive in a small but notable role as the guard Zuniga), although tonight’s toreador isn’t the most explosive. The emotional world of the show, however, doesn’t cut deep enough. The various lovers’ pas de deux are all momentum over meaningful moments, not much space to breathe, or feel. But then that’s not our Carmen: she whirlwinds through life, to her death.
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