Matthew Bourne's 'The Red Shoes'

When Matthew Bourne's "The Red Shoes" arrived in New York, it was on the heels of a sold-out run in London, along with ecstatic critical reviews. It's gratifying to report that this thoroughly entertaining work fully lives up to the audience's expectations.

Over the years, the 1948 British film "The Red Shoes" has grown in stature to become greatly admired by filmmakers and film buffs. In the way it portrays the fanatical dedication required of ballet dancers, it, along with "The Turning Point" and "The Black Shoes," has formed most people's ideas about the rarified world of ballet.

It's interesting that all three films deal with the same basic theme, how a prima ballerina is expected to dedicate her entire life to art, forgoing love and a family. A female theatrical star torn between craft and career, on the one hand, and a hopeless personal life is certainly a popular one, from "All About Eve" to "Valley of the Dolls." But what's required of ballerinas may be the epitome of such a conflict.

Bourne has become famous for the way he can adapt stories, including films like "Edward Scissorhands," to dance. It's certainly not easy to take the complexities of a film and try to convey that without words. To call it "challenging" would be an understatement.

Does he succeed here? Mostly. There are so many changes to the unfolding of the action in the film that this is more a rethink than an adaptation. My major gripe is that the Playbill doesn't include a pr�cis, which would greatly help the audience follow what's happening on stage; at times, I was confused exactly what was going on, and others have told me they felt the same way.

That aside, there are a few quibbles about how he handles certain scenes.

Bourne likes to alternate the funny, silly, or satiric with the "serious" dancing. "The Red Shoes" opens with a satire upper-class Brits preening but then shifts to the heroine showing her stuff, with her future impresario singularly impressed.

As the ballet troupe arrives in Monte Carlo, we get an extended scene of kitschy number of dancers in 1920s bathing costumes that borrows from silent films and Broadway revues of the time. Why not just have the company at a train station, suitcases in hand?

A bigger problem for me is the ultra-queeniness of the gay dancers in the onstage company, especially the heroine's partner. Bourne showed a remarkable sensitivity in the gay adaptation of "Swan Lake" that made his reputation (I saw it twice in four days, something I've never done before or since). But here, it's all Will, no Jack.

One thing is for sure: Whether silly or serious, Bourne is one hell of a choreographer. One of the most talented and protean of his generation, he has a wide-ranging vocabulary that ranges from ballet to Broadway, with everything in between.

When the heroine leaves the company in a huff because the impresario, jealous at her love for his composer, fires the fire-breathing young musician, we next see the couple struggling to survive in London by working in a music hall. The music-hall acts hilariously show us how far she's fallen.

Rather than lifting the music from the film, Bourne has wisely chosen a pastiche, much of it borrowed from the great film composer Bernard Hermann. Known for his collaborations with Hitchcock (he did those swiping strings when Janet Leigh takes a very unfortunate shower in "Psycho"), Hermann was one of Hollywood's greatest film composers, with good reason. The music here is lush, gorgeous, and perfect for dancing.

As usual with Bourne, the dancers are not only first rate dancers, but actors as well. There always seems to be much more going on in a Bourne piece than in any other dance evenings, but the company manages the intricate, complex patterns beautifully. The leads, from the New York City Ballet, are astounding.

The rotating set, which swivels between what is happening backstage with the ballet being performed, becomes part of the action. The costumes for the ballet sequences are gorgeous, the everyday clothes elegant and appropriate.

There are few productions that come through town that are as worth making the effort for. If you miss this, you'll be kicking yourself.

Matthew Bourne's "The Red Shoes" runs through November 5 at the New York City Center, 131 W. 56th St., between 7th and Sixth Avenues. For information or tickets, call 212-581-1212 or visit the website.