Carlos Acosta's 'Nutcracker In Havana'

Since 1892, Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker has become as much a part of Christmas tradition as roasting chestnuts on an open fire (or whatever the 2024 log-burner equivalent might now be). And even though it has only ever snowed once in Havana, Carlos Acosta was not going to let a small detail like that from turning Acosta Danza's first-ever full-length dance show into a lovingly-created fantasy production.

Christmas was banned by Fidel Castro in 1969, meaning that Acosta (born in 1973) grew up without any of the childhood pleasures of a traditional Yuletide. Only the visit of Pope John Paul II to Havana in January 1998 persuaded Castro to lift restrictions. Due to trade embargos, and the continuing pressures on the nation's economy, it is not difficult to tell whether Nutcracker in Havana is set in 1960 or 2000. And the arrival of Herr Drosselmeyer with a beaten up 1957 Chevrolet Corvette means that the setting remains ambiguous. Either way, the scene is set for a two-act ballet of spectacular proportion.

Following the arrival of Drosselmeyer on Christmas Eve, which itself is accompanied by some magical special effects, the coming to life of the four dolls and the presence of the nutcracker doll provides much of the first Act drama. Gingerbread soldiers and giant mice do battle, and the mouse king is slain by the nutcracker. The Nutcracker doll assumes prince-like form, and leads Clara through to a forest, where, as the snow falls, the beautiful Waltz of the Snowflakes is performed. With Nina Dunn's set designs, Andrew Exeter's lighting, Angelo Alberto's costumes, and Pepe Gailondo's arrangement of the score, together combining to create a dream-like vista, the scene reminded me of Edward Scissorhands, and all of its innocent beauty. If it only ever snowed once in Havana, this must surely have been how it felt.

Act 2 follows Clara and the Prince as they visit The Land of Sweets, ruled by the Sugar Plum Fairy. Dancers from the sweets of Spain, Arabia, China, and Russia take turns to perform their polished pieces, all to the stirring melodies of Tchaikovsky's music. It is, of course, the Dance of The Mirlions that supplies the most iconic moment of the evening – everybody over 'a certain age' will still be reminded of Frank Muir and his Cadbury's chocolate television advertisements during the 1970's, and will all have been silently singing along to 'Everyone's a Fruit & Nut Case'.