Review of ‘La Fille mal gardée’: “Camp au champs”

The Birmingham Royal Ballet revives Sir Frederick Ashton’s signature choreography, in a new production bringing back the charm and whimsies of Hérold’s old-fashioned romantic ballet. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this field work manages to make audiences smell the barn.

It’s almost a mathematical certainty that, when two young souls find each other, an old ugly crone opposes. Envy? Feels of possessiveness? Or just no cause other than being a pain in the derriere (it’s a French piece, after all)? Well, why do you keep asking me? I can’t see inside your mind, honey. But if there’s something that fairy tales have taught us, that is that, when it comes to true love, a pure heart can overcome every obstacle fate brings upon it. That’s also the reason why they are called fantasy – and maybe why they just don’t call me Evil Queen because I’m camp.

But let’s forget about true life for a moment (let’s definitely do that, please), and travel into a separate world reigned by the enchantment of a simpler time – where innocence is the cornerstone of their foundation; and dreams, the essential element of the air they breathe. An utmost classic in its field, the Birmingham Royal Ballet’s latest montage of La Fille mal gardée epitomizes that concept through the return of Sir Frederick Ashton’s iconic vision, bringing back the allure of a traditional, old-style choreography through a charming, family-friendly montage – where comedy and artistic panache plié in complete unison to create a fully assembled experience designed (with resounding success) to both move and entertain.

Featuring set designs by Jean Dauberval, as well as costumes by Osbert Lancaster, its infantile aesthetic approach (intentionally resembling the looks of a pantomime) effortlessly drags its audience into its carefree undertone – instantly enticing us with its vivid, cartoon-like appearance, and effectively keeping its spell alive through the brilliance of its execution. With a perfect merge of narrative flow, showmanship instinct, and absolute adroitness in its craft, the whole concoction works with total flawlessness – delivering a thoroughly finalized piece that perfectly converges all of its aspects in its highest form.

With a lavish, melodiously rich score, adapted and arranged by John Lanchbery, Paul Murphy’s conducting excels through his masterful understanding of colour, layering and phrasing. Leading the orchestra with passionate zest, without renouncing to the overall delicate tinge of the material, every passage is played with almost immaculate prowess – exuding sentiment and intricacy in each moment, and thus enhancing the robustness of the music by helping wrapping up the journey it conveys.

As for the corps, the entire troupe makes what’s probably one the most impressive appearances the company, as a whole, has presented its viewers with in the last couple of seasons. With the male ensemble being the greater achiever, displaying magnificent technique, unblemished rapport and almost outright precision, a first mention is fairly earned by Rory Mackay in the dame role of Widow Simone – not only boasting exceptional humorous skills, but also tremendous solidity in both his acting and dance.

On the other hand, principal ballerina Beatrice Parma gives an astounding portrayal as protagonist Lise – exuding sheer grace in her interpretation, evenly combining method with an outpouring sense of naturalness and poise. Nonetheless, the biggest praise goes to also principal performer Enrique Bejarano Vidal as Colas, flaunting all-out impeccability in his act, which is only reinforced by his intrinsic ability to emit both presence and elegance in his rendering.

Every story has been told. Ballet isn’t, by any means, an exception to that rule. And yet, here comes a piece which, despite crossing every checkpoint of the classical genre cannon, is so boldly capable of making a difference with such outrageous sonority. A splendid melange of artistic virtuosity and visual stunts, where talent and aptitude serve as both channel and goal, La Fille ma gardee makes a resolute triumph as a piece where brilliance emanates from every angles it’s looked upon. It moves and enamours – and in the most unexpected manner, it brings out the laughter and surprise to the very same extent. Regardless of how many cows you may have, rest assured this peasant romance is worth betting the farm for.

All pictures credit to Riku Itu.

Upcoming productions by the Birmingham Royal Ballet are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara