Anna Karenina

The Australian Ballet’s co-production (with the Joffrey Ballet) of Anna Karenina has been a long time coming to the Melbourne stage. Originally scheduled as part of the 2020 season, the closures of the pandemic have left this ballet in the wings for two years.  At first glance, the epic Russian story of love, lust and loss seems the perfect vehicle with which to launch the season. 

The first thing you notice when you enter the State Theatre for this performance is that the iconic curtain is not visible. Instead, there is a screen with the name of the ballet projected. This is the first of the cinematic projections through which Finn Ross creates most of the sets for the show. As Orchestra Victoria start the dirge of composer Illya Demutsky’s score, the projection turns to smoke. This seems like Ross has missed an opportunity. If the projections are to give this production a cinematic feel (along with Tom Pye’s costumes and sets and David Finn’s low key, high contrast lighting), why not go all the way and have the credits roll.

The prologue opens, and what follows is an incredibly well danced but fast, furious and messy first act.  Anyone familiar with Tolstoy’s work would be shaking their head at how simplistically his characters are portrayed. There is no context given, there is no development. Kitty, danced by Benedicte Bemet, is pretty but lacks the somewhat petulant nature of the original. Bemet is able to project a smile to the back of the stalls but isn’t given much complexity to her character here.  Similarly, the always wonderful Brett Chynoweth is given very little as Levin, Kitty’s suitor. The first act really is a blur of characters and scenes raced through at a break-neck pace, leaving the audience wondering who is who.

The highlight of Act I is most definitely the seductive pas de deux between Anna (danced so adeptly by Robin Hendricks) and Vronsky (Callum Linnane). This scene is deeply sensual and for the first time in this ballet the audience can understand these characters as flesh and blood, rather than rushed over caricatures. Linnane truly carries the first act. He is an exceptional dancer and thus it was truly exciting to see him rewarded for his efforts by being promoted to Principal at the show’s end. As Anna runs to an injured Vronsky, showing all of society her impropriety, the First Act ends with Vronsky shooting his horse. There is very little joy in the First Act, which is a shame because this is in fact where the joy of Anna Karenina should be found.

Act II is a different beast as the pace slows considerably. It is as if Possokhov wants us to languish with Anna as she heads to her inevitable demise. Hendricks, Linnane and and Australian Ballet Principal Adam Bull perform a pas de trois that finally unearths the emotional depth of this ballet. Bull, as Anna’s husband Karenin, is fluid and beautiful. His lines are exceptional and he has an emotional resonance which draws the audience into the character’s personal pain. Linnane demonstrates Vronsky’s love and guilt with similar power. Hendricks flows between the two men, showing Anna’s true confusion over her loves.

In the end Anna, driven mad by sadness and left bereft by the loss of love and her son, throws herself in front of a train and we think the ballet is done. At least it should be. An epilogue of Kitty and Levin living happily in the countryside seems incongruous with the rest of the ballet. It may have been Tolstoy’s intent for the story to end this way but it doesn’t quite work in this ballet. 

This ballet has all the requisite parts for a great show but for some intangible reason they don’t seem to fit together.  It’s a very big swing for the Australian Ballet, but I’m not quite convinced that it isn’t a miss.

L.B. Bermingham

Photographer: Jeff Busby