AS THE whistles, cheers and foot-stamping died away, and a filled-to-the-brim Theatre Royal emptied itself out onto the street, the post-show analysis began. If the riotous applause and standing ovations had left us in any doubt as to audience opinion, the praise resonating around the foyer said it al. Most telling of all, however, was the comment made by a man (clearly a dance newcomer) to his wife: “I’m not sure if I’d like the real ballet, but that was great.”
It was a remark that managed to both compliment and insult the company simultaneously, because the dancers of Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo perform ballet which is most definitely “real”. Their technique is superb, their timing faultless and their regard for the traditions of classical ballet beyond reproach. What sets the Trocks apart, however, is their gender.
A stage filled with male ballerinas en pointe is always going to be something special. Throw in copious laugh-out-loud moments, lavish costumes and pirouettes that would put many female dancers in the shade, and you’ve got a night to remember.
Knowledge of the ballet repertoire they perform – Swan Lake, Le Corsaire, Paquita – is helpful but by no means essential. After all, a corps de ballet falling over like a row of dominoes is funny whether you’ve seen the real thing or not. If you can still get a ticket, catch the Trocks at Edinburgh Festival Theatre this weekend.