Darling, you simply wouldn't believe the *drama* that unfolded at the Royal Ballet's latest production of "Swan Lake" last night! I mean, it was like a scene straight out of "The Devil Wears Prada" (but with more sequins, naturally)!
Firstly, let's address the elephant (or, should I say, swan) in the room: those *tutus*! They were a *disaster*. Now, don't get me wrong, I adore a good tutu, but these looked like they'd been through a war with a flock of pigeons! Feathers were *everywhere*! One of the ballerinas (she reminded me so much of a young Twiggy!), well, she actually *lost* a whole panel from hers during the famous "death scene," and ended up gracefully gliding across the stage like a beautiful, albeit partially naked, bird. And let's not forget the poor swans themselves; they were constantly being poked in the face by those stray feather clusters, causing several frantic flappings and some rather... *ungainly* movements.
Speaking of flailing, there was an incident in the "White Swan" sequence where one of the dancers actually fell! The whole theatre gasped as she toppled right on to her bottom, the most dramatic "splat" I've ever heard, followed by a moment of awkward silence before the orchestra bravely plowed on, all while she sat there looking rather perplexed. Eventually, bless her heart, she picked herself up, dusted off the floor (or at least, I assume she tried) and carried on as though nothing had happened, which is true professionalism if I ever saw it!
But that wasn't even the highlight of the evening, because during the interval, I saw something truly sensational. Imagine my delight when, stepping out onto the balcony, I was met with none other than the legendary *Dame Edna Everage*! In a pink feather boa that wouldn't be out of place on a showgirl's costume and an array of rhinestones that made her gleam brighter than the lighting in the theatre itself. She took one look at my shimmering cocktail dress, and with that perfectly-timed comedic flair of hers, let out a "G'day, darling!," so loud it almost made my earrings jump off. The night was just getting started.
As if things couldn't possibly get more chaotic, there was then the incident of the runaway "Odette." I'm talking a *real* swan! Now, I love swans. They're graceful, elegant and quite honestly the perfect embodiment of everything I strive to be... but let me tell you, the swan was having *none* of it. He was not happy! In fact, he was downright *disgruntled*. He appeared on stage halfway through the first act, during the "cygnet pas de deux", to be precise, and proceeded to disrupt the delicate choreography with some truly astonishing waddling and honking! The audience (most of them at least, and myself definitely *not* included) were initially horrified. But then the giggles started. First, just a few nervous squeals here and there, then a chuckle, and before you knew it, the whole place was *roaring* with laughter. Even the ballerinas, bless their cotton socks (though I don't believe they actually wear socks... just those ridiculous ballet shoes, right?), seemed to be fighting back a smile. After several glorious laps around the stage, he waddled off in the opposite direction to where he'd come from, leaving the dancers looking momentarily confused before regaining their composure and bravely powering through the rest of the routine. Let me tell you, there were tears in my eyes from laughing so hard!
However, all the madness was overshadowed by the ending. You see, in this particular production of Swan Lake, there is this twist where the "White Swan" is meant to fall into the lake at the climax and become transformed into a swan. It's a classic move, if a little cliché. But what they did at the end was brilliant, darling. *Brilliant*! They couldn't find a single real swan to play the role. There was no time, no money, and you wouldn't believe what was in the Swan Lake! The ballerina was just going to have to leap, and hope for the best!
As the music built towards the crescendo, the ballerina went for it. She stood on the very edge of the stage. Took a deep breath. Leapt... and instead of landing in the water, she *disappeared* completely. It was *spectacular*. Then, right at that moment, *poof* a flock of swans flew in from somewhere, landed perfectly, gracefully swam in a circle in unison, and *bowed*. Then they all *flew off again* into the night. The orchestra played the last bars.
That is why, darlings, that is *exactly* why this ballet deserves an award! It wasn't perfect. Not by a long shot. But was it memorable? Absolutely. Oh my word, you wouldn't believe how utterly *fab* the whole night was. Honestly, the *best* "Swan Lake" I've ever seen. Just *gorgeous*. Don't tell anyone I said that!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find a swan. You know, for inspiration.