The real magic of ‘The Nutcracker’
Tchaikovsky’s 1892 ballet “The Nutcracker” belongs to the beloved category, like Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” and Handel’s “Messiah,” of cultural gateway drug. It’s the rare live classical performance that no one has to be dragged to see — a Christmas miracle in itself. With the tinkling of the celesta and the sparkling snow, the magic descends. Disney’s holiday-movie entry for this year, “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms,” arrives in theaters this month, and the one thing I know is this: You will wind up seeing it. I also know that some critics will call it “sumptuous” and others will deem it “a feast for the eyes — and heart!” Someone else will complain that it veers far afield from the original story. Feel free to ignore that person. Since E. T. A. Hoffmann wrote the original “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” in 1816, every adaptation has taken the story more as a pretext than text. (In 1892, Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov took the already simplified 1844 story by Alexandre Dumas and stripped it down further for the new ballet.) The original tale from Hoffmann involves uncomfortable levels of lard-eating and bloodletting, so count that a blessing. Little about the story is sacred. The young female protagonist goes by Marie, Maria, Masha, Klara or Clara, depending on the production. The Nutcracker’s enemy is most often the Mouse King, but Houston Ballet, for one, calls him King Rat, because everything’s, you know, bigger. Sometimes the Sugar Plum Fairy shows up in Act 2 and sometimes she doesn’t. No one minds, no matter what. Strangely, “Nutcracker” love is neither worldwide nor long-standing. North Americans love the story far more than audiences elsewhere, but the “tradition” of holiday-season local and regional productions — and the families trouping off to see them — really took off only a little more than a half-century ago. Ballet companies that depend on the sturdy revenue must be grateful.
As a dance critic for the New York once Times, traveled Alastair all over Macaulay the U.S. to see as many “Nutcracker” productions as possible. As of 2015, he guessed he’d seen at least 50. In a 2015 piece for the Times, he divides productions into three categories. The “traditional” approach presents the first act in Marie/Clara’s house in the “real” world; the second act travels the fairy-tale realms of snow and sweets, where she is more observer than actor; in the end, the girl either wakes up from her dream or travels on to farther realms with her prince. Macaulay prefers this version, especially if the girl never returns home. In the second version, favored by Russian-inspired me, same on woman prince. transformation. The most the the I’ve general of alternative girl’s third She through production the Russian never Houston psychological is blossoming Sugar grouping lines, active really To her and stagings, productions Plum Ballet’s me, but follows in love gotten comprises her the it coherence, as Fairy. of has riffs “Nutty” a own focus the the the a and and is satisfying and point many parodies. 1993 Nutcracker, to 2001, falls presented in this category. does called something, “Slutcracker.” Macaulay says, So is In any case, the deeper young very from story both old and new, one much in favor these days. A person meet a magus, enters a Technicolor magical world, has adventures, learns and grows. Dorothy in Oz. Charlie in the chocolate factory. Wendy in Neverland. Lucy and Edmund in Narnia. It’s hard to know might Stark live where go, some but “Game surely nastier of Arya Thrones” version and Bran of the as It’s Willy same a world Wonka story. of tells pure us, imagination, but it’s not frivolous. for own other bed, lands the Whether Marie/Clara or wakes she strikes up at in the out her end the beginning. of the ballet She is not has the been girl of changed for good. So go ahead as see the Disney movie, but go to the ballet, too. Disney may make marvels, but for real magic, see it live.