Lise and Colas, the lovers in Frederick Ashton's La Fille mal gardée, are among ballet's most straightforward couples. They don't have royal blood; they haven't been cursed by a spell; they don't have the two biggest families in Veronaon their backs. They are simply a farmer's daughter and a local lad - so the dancers who perform them have a blessed licence to be normal.
Lise is a bit pert and greedy, a little doolally. Colas is the hunk of the village but also quite sweet. Yet while the roles are not on a grand or tragic scale, La Fille is a traditional ballet and Lise and Colas still have to radiate some glamour. But on this night the two most charismatic performers were Lise's grumpy old mum and the neighbourhood squire.
Jane Burn (Lise) has a lovely, upbeat spring and nifty capacity for speed. Johan Persson (Colas) has strength and an emphatically neat finish. They deal smartly and attractively with the tricksy beauties of Ashton's choreography, and with different partners they might even look exciting. As a pair, they hold no surprises.
A deeper part of the problem is dramatic. Persson's face is too set in genial jock mode to register nuances of feeling. Burn has range and a comic timing that makes us laugh out loud. But she too fails to intrigue, and as a pair they don't make us feel the heat of their attraction.
The contrast with the old fuddy-duddies in the ballet is extreme. William Tuckett as squire Thomas - red-faced, blustering and vain - gives fascinating side shows to the role, flirting with monstrous energy with Widow Simone and displaying clumsy but affecting tenderness for his loopy son. Luke Heydon as the Widow Simone doesn't stand on enough crotchety dignity for my taste but his verve is irresistible. His flamboyance is matched by Giacomo Ciriaci as Alain. Playing him as a doleful clown - more commedia dell'arte than rustic fool - Ciriaci flips his way through Alain's addled moves with a comic dysfunctional brilliance.
In rep until March 10. Box office: 020-7304 4000.
