Melbourne Reviews

The Australian Ballet has many times over proved their chops with contemporary works and Carmen is no exception. There’s not a pointe shoe to be seen in Swedish choreographer Johan Inger’s full-length work. Originally made in 2015 for Compania Nacional de Danza Madrid, it has since been performed by contemporary and ballet companies alike.  

The choreography for a cast of 18 requires balletic foundations to achieve its sharp angles, drops to the floor and contorted group patterns, but its imagery, design and structure is eclectic and far from the formalities of ballet. It works in parts and the technical execution from the dancers elevates the production overall. 

Based on the novella by Prosper Merimee and with music (arranged by Rodion Shchedrin) inspired and drawing from Georges Bizet’s well-known opera, Carmen's narrative and musical themes will already be familiar. 

But that’s where the similarities end. Beyond the music, this Carmen has only a few Spanish accents – mainly in the ruffles of the women’s dresses (who sometimes have them unzipped to their waists, showing nude-looking tops in a contemporary rather than balletic aesthetic).

Inger’s vision is more global than local. The whole stage is a non-specific space – vast and cold. Greys, whites, blacks … colour is minimal, and the set is mostly bare, except for a collection of rolling, rectangular locker-like structures that form walls, barriers, and cells. Metal on one-side and slated on the other, they are as much a suggestion of a building facade as they are of an internal imprisonment and highly effective for both narrative and emotional framing. Along with the lighting (by Tom Visser), everything about the design reads cool, rather than warm. 

But this is fitting, given the scenario of a toxic male, killing not one, but two people because of his uncontrollable jealousy and rage. Inger (and his creative cohorts of men) make this Carmen very much about the plight of Don Jose, who can’t have the woman whom he wants … and goes to violent and evil lengths to make up for that lack. 

The emotion across the three male leads is more stylised and histrionic than visceral. This is partially due to the exaggerated movements and long-limbed reaching and contorting of big shapes suggesting large emotion. It’s slickly done and nice to watch but not gut-punching. The trio of lead men – Marcus Morelli as Don Jose, Jake Mangakahia as Torero and Timothy Coleman as Zuniga are all superbly skilful movers and Mangakahia clearly enjoys the show pony machismo of Torero. Morelli has his high moments especially in duet with Lilla Harvey’s Carmen when his performance is most nuanced and exciting. 

Equally so with Harvey as Carmen whose interpretation also has a coolness, a la Inger’s style and peaks in the group work with the other women, as well as her featured duet work. 

An all-black, blazer-clad ensemble covered from head to toe (including full face/head) manipulate action and bodies like a brooding chorus of puppet masters, adding to the dark energy.

It’s not light-hearted stuff and most of the agency and perspective comes from the male characters, especially since there’s the framing figure of “Young Boy” (played by a female – Samara Merrick) embodying suggestions of Don Jose’s past and present. This figure engages from the side lines and occasionally mingles with the others. He watches his life unfold in a self-destructive rage, suggesting questions about trauma, morality and the choices that shape how a person develops. 

The dancers have the technical prowess to take this Carmen over the line and make it consistently interesting to watch, regardless of the thematic and narrative choices at play. Whether it survives another decade doing the international rounds is yet to be determined, but there’s already been a successful Sydney season last year and it is about to head to Canberra in June.