Northern Ballet: Three Short Ballets review – star-crossed lovers, a sunny party and a 20th-century classic | Dance

You cannot go wrong with a Romeo and Juliet story. This one isn’t inspired by Shakespeare but South African writer RL Peteni’s 1976 novel Hill of Fools, which has a similar set-up: two warring villages and two lovers caught in between. You can tell from the off this won’t end well.

Choreographed by Mthuthuzeli November, Fools is set in a South African township – a minimal but effective set has a street lamp, telegraph lines and a corrugated metal wall. The Thembu and Hlubi villagers, represented by a marginally different colour palette for their costumes, at first show a jovial, teasing rivalry. But the union of the central couple (Harris Beattie and Sarah Chun) is too much for the forceful ego of Antoni Cañellas Artigues, the self-styled protector of Chun’s character. He eats up the stage with hungry leaps and bristling aggro.

Beattie and Chun have you rooting for the loved-up couple, their dances playful and conversational until a kiss that is so intense it sends Chun’s quivering leg all the way to the sky. Beattie’s dancing is particularly dreamy as he pushes through the space with full-bodied richness, rather than balletic politeness.

This might be November’s best piece yet in terms of stagecraft. The final dramatic beats could be a little clearer and more powerful, but he shows great mastery in handling the busy crisscrossing of multiple bodies, weaving and dashing and dancing through the space, keeping the energy buzzing. The choreography, fused with influences from ballet, contemporary and South African dance, is full of pattern, rhythm and moreish momentum.

Fools is the culmination of a triple bill. Elsewhere there’s five minutes of fun from choreographer Kristen McNally in Victory Dance, a trio including guest dancer Joe Powell-Main, who uses a wheelchair, spinning, grinning and brimming with personality. It’s jaunty, sunny and clean cut, like a party fuelled by (non-alcoholic) tropical fruit punch.

Then there’s a 20th-century classic, Rudi van Dantzig’s Four Last Songs, set to Richard Strauss. A late 1970s piece, very much of its time: flowy, breezy, beautiful with long lyrical phrases as smooth as the sheen on the men’s tights. Despite the presence of Death, we’re not talking raw emotion here – it’s all perfectly contained in finessed technique, faraway looks and pin-sharp arabesques. The dancers are impressive all round.