If I asked you to picture Snow White, I’m guessing the first image that would spring to mind would be the puffy-sleeved princess of the 1937 Disney animated adaptation, and unquestionably, this is the default reference point for virtually everyone. The original, of course, is a far cry from the sweet-as-pie, daffy-dwarfed cartoon iteration. The Brothers Grimm had imaginations that were, well, grim, and the details of their fables reside in a far more violent, horrifying territory than Walt Disney would have you believe.
It’s therefore entirely legitimate for a modern exponent of this fairy tale to channel the bloody anathemas of the original source material, transforming Snow White from a saccharine story for wide-eyed kiddies into a darker, more emotionally complex animal. However, that’s not to say reinterpretations can have carte blanche to warp every corner of this story into an adults-only affair. Fundamentally, Snow White is a story that examines an age-old polarity: the conflict between good and evil, darkness and light, purity and corruption. Failing to recognise the necessity to make these opposing characteristics distinct is a problematic misstep, and while there are moments of brilliance in Angelin Preljocaj’s 2007 adaptation of Snow White, the boundary between these extremities is somewhat blurred.
This might well be because this production is something of a Frankenstein's monster: a strange mix of elements not entirely convincingly stitched together. Its score is a patchwork of Mahler, intersected with moments of the generic electronica all too familiar to contemporary dance fans. The dance is an uneven amalgam of Classically influenced story ballet pastiche and hard-edged abstract expressionism, throwing accents of Petipa against quotes from Nijinsky, overlaid with a more contemporary choreographic vernacular. The costumes, designed by French fashion icon Jean-Paul Gaultier, are striking constructions but theatrically remote, sometimes obscuring crucial plot points behind indistinguishable garments. These high-fashion threads also trumpet an overt sexual dynamic – the Stepmother is a dominatrix, flanked by two fetishistic felines in bondage masks while Snow White wears a sheer, barely-there slip – that often feels unnecessarily try-hard.
The amplification of the erotic is a particularly jarring aspect, as it divorces this story from the notion of innocence. If the wicked stepmother’s sexual depravity expresses her dark inner nature, then one would assume Snow White would be an opposing expression of chastity, but in fact, our heroine is often as sexually alert as our villain. It seems that both characters communicate something about gratification, just on opposite ends of the spectrum between pleasure and pain.
This said, Preljocaj isn’t regarded as an internationally important dance maker for no good reason, and there is plenty about this show that is worth a watch. There are some spectacular showstoppers that are irresistibly charming, such as the arrival of the not-so-dwarfish seven dwarfs, who scramble up and down a rocky cliff face like a septet of spider monkeys. Rather than merely tempting Snow White to take a bite from the poison apple, the evil Stepmother violently attacks her stepdaughter, slamming her up and down the stage as our heroine is helplessly lock-lipped around the deadly fruit.
There are moments of pure poetry too, such as the invocation of Snow White’s dead mother, who descends, as if carried on a moonbeam, to weep over her daughter’s body. She lifts the girl, aloft as if to carry her over from the world of the living to the world of the dead, and yet as they dangle mesmerizingly between the earth below and heaven above it, is clear that Snow White’s time is not over. Love, like gravity, is an irresistible force.
This show is strongest when it is allowed to momentarily forget that it's telling a specific story. When it’s unhitched from this narrative waggon, it gallops apace, effortlessly unleashing the most compelling movement. The two duets between Snow White and the Prince a standout highlights. The first offers a playful yet suggestive courtship, as the two bodies either outwardly mirror each other or passionately interlace. The second, when the Prince discovers Snow White’s comatose body, sees him desperately manipulate this limp and lifeless form, urging it to revive and respond. Suddenly it becomes clear he is not merely driven by lust. It is insightful and poignant; a perfectly judged balance in a show that too often misses this important equilibrium.
Ballet Preljocaj presents Snow White, at QPAC to 11 Sep. Part of the Brisbane Festival.
