He circles her like a wild beast watching its prey, stealthy, cruel and merciless. In her tiara and floating gown, Blanche Dubois puts up a tragic fight until she is overpowered and ravished by her brother-in-law. In this new dance-drama slant on the Tennessee Williams classic for Northern Ballet Theatre, Dutch choreographer Didy Veldman homes in on the bestial side of Stanley Kowalski. She pitches his dangerous sexuality against broken Blanche, and the lid blows off the pressure cooker in this almost primal pas de deux. Reflected and distorted in the angled mirrors of Es Devlin's clever sliding set, Stanley locks horns with Blanche. Trapping her with an insolent leg across the doorway, he moves in for the kill, flinging her into violent spins and lifts, smashing her against the wall.
Veldman came up with a sizzling Carmen in 1999, but there's something missing here. The dance can't equal the dialogue; you can't feel the steamy heat. Although you can see Blanche's brittle gentility through Charlotte Talbot's sensitive portrayal, you can't hear her tones of desperate refinement. Jonathan Ollivier gives us a brooding, macho Stanley, all dirty vest and rippling six-pack, who sees through Blanche's genteel veneer. But there's not enough frisson between Talbot and Ollivier, not enough menacing desire.
Fiona Wallis is excellent as pregnant Stella, the forgiving, battered wife. She dances some powerful duos with her man, trying to protect her unborn child from his fists one minute, in a post-coital endorphin haze the next. She and the berating neighbour Eunice, a little gem from Desiré Samaai, are the most credible people here.
The action is studded with flashbacks to Belle Reve, the sisters' home, where life became a long procession to the cemetery. Here we have screaming corpses and scattered petals to show the loss that has led to Blanche's instability. The choreography is sharp and inventive, as ever with Veldman. At one point she introduces a phalanx of girls squatting backwards in a pincer formation, moving slowly on hands and shocking-pink pointes, apparently an allusion to the Tarantula Arms, the dive where Blanche fell into prostitution.
There's also a fairground extravaganza with psychedelic costumes, during which Blanche and suitor Mitch relive their childhood. Its whirligig of limes and pinks contrasts with the stark glare of the lightbulbs that Blanche dares to expose, and the clinical white of the final scene. Blanche is led away to the asylum surrounded by dancers in stretchy straitjackets. They loop their sleeves over her neck then spin her round like a wheel. The image is beautiful in its awfulness. But somehow you can't shed a tear.
Until Saturday. Box office: 01274 752000. At the Theatre Royal, Norwich (01603 630000), October 2-6, then tours to Nottingham, Salford, Sheffield and Northampton.
