I used to live in France. Every year there would be a couple of commemorative events in the village, on Armistice Day and 14th July. These would take place around the war memorial in the village square and, as well as the mayor with his tricolour sash, there would be a squad of dashing Foreign Legionnaires from the nearby barracks. They stood at attention, their rifles across their chests. These soldiers were all at their peak of physical fitness and their well-fitting, lightweight uniforms enhanced their muscular form. During the ceremonies many of the women of the village, of all ages, would make a point of standing directly behind the soldiers so as to gaze admiringly at their pert bums.

I detected a slight element of this at the theatre last night where a full house of predominantly women had turned up to see BalletBoyz. Now, I must emphasize most emphatically that was not why I was there. Oh, no. I was there in a purely professional capacity in order to write the review that you are now reading. However, I must confess to preferring male dancers to female in contemporary dance. Clearly I was not going to be disappointed.

So, let’s cut to the chase. BalletBoyz are beautifully, breathtakingly brilliant. Literally. For the first five minutes I found myself with my mouth open, but failing to take breath. It was truly mesmerising. The first of the two pieces they performed was Serpent which opened with the ten dancers lying on a bare stage, one arm raised in the air. The hands turned, the arms swayed. From the title I presume these were snakes, but being ballet, the first thing that came to my mind was swans.

Lighting by Michael Hulls is an integral part of BalletBoyz. It defines the movement and describes the muscular male torso. Serpent, choreographed my Liam Scarlett, was played out before a white back-cloth onto which ever changing lights played. Lit mainly from the side, the dancers were picked out in stark relief. The movement alternated between rhythmic, graceful flow and violent, staccato interactions between paired-off dancers. The whole thing was spellbinding.

Then, just as I was thinking how can they beat that, they did. The second part of the programme, Fallen by Russell Maliphant is, by contrast dark and lit mainly by spotlights pointing straight down onto a dark stage. Such is the power of dance that everyone will take away from a performance something different. I saw Fallen as a prison exercise yard with the convicts walking in a circle as the shafts of sunlight squeezed in from above. The person in the next seat saw it as a battlefield. Whatever it was, and does it really matter, it was astonishing.

I saw BalletBoyz when they were here with the same programme last year but seeing them again was like seeing them for the first time. Such is the effect of true art; you never tire of witnessing it and each time you do, your eyes and senses are re-exposed and reinvigorated.

Those of the audience who went expecting one thing, came away with an awful lot more of something much, much better. And it is that which they will remember and cherish.   ★★★★★     Michael Hasted