Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake review – continues to soar

This remounting of Matthew Bourne’s seminal Swan Lake has been dubbed “The Next Generation” – a nod to the fact that the record-breaking production, first seen in the mid 1990s, has inspired a whole new cohort of talent – including those who grew up in its vast shadow.

In a fantastic programme article courtesy of Sarah Crompton, Swan dancer Jackson Fisch even remembers as a child having his DVD of the production confiscated, his parents so sick of listening to Tchaikovsky on repeat.

How anyone could be sick of listening to Tchaikovsky is beyond me. The point stands, however – this remains one of the most impressive productions in contemporary dance.

The tale here differs from Tchaikovsky’s original, which was inspired by Russian and German folk tales. Originally a doomed romance about a princess, Odette, who is cursed by a sorcerer and transformed into a swan (only true love’s kiss could save the day, but, alas, it doesn’t), Bourne has upended the worn plot beats.

The central conceit, more radical in the 1990s than 2020s perhaps, now involves a gender-switched swan ensemble. This means the bachelor protagonist prince, disillusioned with his neglectful queen mother and a hostile press in an unnamed country, becomes fixated on a group of testosterone-fuelled, semi-naked, therianthropic swans he encounters one evening. In a heady series of meetings, they coax out his repressed desires and needs for intimacy.

What makes Bourne’s vision so simple, yet so effective, is the fact that swans have been fundamentally misrepresented in culture for centuries. They aren’t delicate, coy creatures, they are vicious, muscular, aggressive and taciturn. The choreography during their appearances feels visceral, rage-fuelled and dangerous. There’s a sensuality here as well, plus intriguing suggestions that the entire episode is all in the prince’s mind.

This is the first remounting of the stage production since the Queen’s death, and it does shift the emphasis somewhat – whereas the disillusioned prince may once have been an easy stand-in for Charles, now it feels more universal and, as a result, empathetic.

That doesn’t make the performances any less impressive. Stephen Murray bowls between tense, repressed awkwardness and freewheeling gaiety as the Prince, while Fisch’s Swan / Stranger has an enigmatic, simmering sexual prowess that makes act three’s ballroom scene entrancing. Ashley Shaw is also given moments of extravagance as the Queen.

New Adventures regulars, designer Lez Brotherston, lighting designer Paule Constable and sound designer Ken Hampton all deliver typically top-form efforts – Brotherston adding a necessary sense of variety to what could have been a one-note aesthetic.

Reaching 30 years of enchanting audiences, Swan Lake continues to soar. With so many more rising talents waiting in the wings, there’ll almost certainly be a next “next” generation.