Opening night for The Who’s album-turned-ballet was a starry one. Pete Townshend himself beamed in a green beanie from the front row of the circle, and the press office said we were sat just behind Elton John, but to keep it to ourselves.
But the brightest dazzle was on stage, in Paris Fitzpatrick’s star-making performance. As hero Jimmy – a mod wannabe in 1960s London, searching for his tribe – Fitzpatrick (who first made a mark in Matthew Bourne’s Romeo + Juliet) has a compulsive, scrappy energy. He’s a lost boy and scaredy kitten. His fists wheel in fury, his restless legs swirl and twist. You can’t look away.
The Who’s 1973 concept album Quadrophenia became a film, and Rachel Fuller’s orchestral arrangement accompanies the ballet: the score’s rock and squall supercharged by a symphony orchestra. The mods may be teenagers with energy to burn, dedicated followers of fashion – but sumptuous layers of sound add depth and texture.
We first see Jimmy stranded on a rock surrounded by spuming waves (breathtaking video design by YeastCulture) and four sharp-suited alter egos who bolster him in a world that seems intent on squeezing the life out of him. Work is soulless, home is hopeless, his parents seemingly slumped and soggy. Jimmy has drive but no focus, until the mods offer gleam and glamour (costumes are by fashion eminence Paul Smith).
Despite Serena McCall’s vigour as Jimmy’s crush, the show’s heat flares between the lads. Jimmy craves role models among the alpha mods. Dan Baines gives some peroxide strut (Jimmy looks entranced just to hold his soft grey coat), while the Royal Ballet’s Matthew Ball spins self-adoringly to My Generation. Jimmy shares exuberant jackrabbit leaps with his best mate (Euan Garrett), a rocker – but leaves him to a kicking on Brighton beach.
The one bloke Jimmy can’t look to is his dad (Stuart Neal) – but they have more in common than he realises. A wartime flashback shows dad losing his comrades in battle – no wonder he hides his memories in whisky.
Quadrophenia makes a compelling night of dance theatre, and gets a lush, swift staging. Choreographer Paul Roberts and theatre director Rob Ashford keep the story moving, even if specifics sometimes blur: (Jimmy’s alter egos, for example). The best of Roberts’ movement is short and sharp (he’s a pop choreographer, he doesn’t hang about) – but sometimes a sequence must extend because the track is still going. He’s ace at animating groups: hurtling commuters or gloriously crisp moves at the mod club.
When Jimmy heads to Brighton, he encounters the infamous 1964 ruck between the mods and rockers. Roberts orchestrates the youngsters’ shove and rumble, until Jimmy is left on his rock, overwhelmed and lost to himself. The waves crash, the brass blares. And all eyes are on Fitzpatrick, desperate to see what Jimmy will do.
Quadrophenia, a Mod Ballet at Sadler's Wells, until 13 July, tickets and information here.
