Walking into Lucas Neal’s magical, misty winter-wonderland set with its accompanying pumping dance party soundtrack immediately and perfectly sets the scene for this joyous and brilliant production.

Collaborators Jean Sergent and Salesi Le’ota have reimagined Tchaikovsy/ Hoffmann’s perennial favourite The Nutcracker for a contemporary audience. Those familiar with the original will recognise the popular musical excerpts (adapted by Maxwell Apse) and the story of Clara (now Clyde) and her Nutcracker prince in their battle with the rat king and expedition into the Land of Sweets – now Courtney Place at 4am complete with a recognisable assortment of drunken hens party attendees, scammers, aggro macho wannabes and tuneless buskers.

In the Sergent-directed version Clyde and his newly animated Slutcracker beau navigate the late night environs of Wellington city, including a visit to a beautifully realised bucket fountain. They stop into various queer friendly spaces such as Ivy – Andrew Paterson’s tap dancing Mother Ginger is one of the show’s many highlights – S&M’s and Midnight Espresso where Georgia Kellet’s Sugar Plum Fairy/ Waitress is another stand out.

There is some serious dance talent on display here. Dryw Mc Arthur, Georgia Kellet and Felix Crossley-Pritchard display the talent and technique that the RNZ Ballet would be lucky to have. Brigid Costello’s choreography is inspired. Without mocking traditional ballet, it fills the usually hollow and twee tropes of the form with sincerity and purpose, breathing fresh life and releasing joy into an outdated and archaic art form, making it accessible and entertaining to all.

Traditional ballet is one of the most conservative art forms, slavishly recreating a style of performance that is literally hundreds of years old. Experienced in a contemporary context, it can be seen as a touch camp or kitsch. Emotional relationships and exchanges between characters are executed through hollow, pantomimic gestures and mime. Here Costello’s work embraces these cliches and bends them to fit The Slutcracker’s own joyous camp purpose.

The director’s notes point to that fact that “this show is for queer people who create their own families, families that are constantly expanding to welcome new members. The chosen families who keep each other loved and safe.” Indeed The Slutcracker’s queerness is central to its appeal.

We all form our identities at least partly through our absorption of stories; fairy tales, fables, bed time stories, films, soap operas, sit-coms, tv dramas, etc. Through story we learn how to inhabit not only the world but our own roles and behaviours within it. Love, morals, work, purpose, ambition. We read of heroes and heroines encountering and overcoming difficulties and imagine ourselves in their place.

However, queer people face the dilemma of not seeing ourselves or our experiences in these stories, indeed we are faced with an almost complete absence and as a result we learn that we have to take the extra step of extrapolating from these heteronormative narratives in an attempt to make them relevant to our own bodies and lives. 

Queer retellings of popular, well known cultural corner stones are not done for cheap laughs alone. They are vital additions to the cultural landscape that see and empower queer people. The Slutcracker places the queer experience proudly centre stage. There are numerous references to our lived experience and culture – an iconic Sasha Velour moment, a cheeky BDSM Christmas gift, an unashamed embrace of wanting to being a slut – that validate our non-heterosexual existence and allow us the chance to feel connected to our community and to enjoy the feeling of being part of a larger family. 

However you do not need to be queer to enjoy this show. The experience of a night out in the flush of new love/lust is familiar to most of us regardless of our sexuality. Sergent. Le’ota, Costello and their team have created a generous piece that is a confection of unbridled joy. This is a perfect Christmas gift for all of us.

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