Joffrey's "Merry Widow" a lighthearted, fleet-footed delight

Last night the curtain rose for the opening performance of The Joffrey Ballet's latest production, Ronald Hynd's The Merry Widow. Widow is a three-act story-ballet adapted from Franz Lehar's operetta of the same title. In order to turn a dialogue-heavy opera into a wordless ballet, Hynd worked with composer John Lanchbery to adapt the original music into something more dance-friendly. Using a combination of lyrical dancing and gestural mime, Hynd tells a story of love and scandal with a glamorous Parisian setting.

But if you think you can just sit back and watch, and then completely grasp what's going on, think again. Pay close attention to those program notes, or you might be asking yourself who that old man is, where that lady in pink came from, and why everyone is constantly swigging champagne.

Allow a little crash-course on the plot: Picture It! Pontevedro, turn of the century. (No, Pontevedro isn't real, it's a made-up French principality.) Pontevedro's bureaucrats realize the country is broke. Ah, but there's a ball coming up at the French Embassy, and look who's on the guest list -- a rich widow, Hanna! And, being far younger than her late husband, she's still quite a catch. So the natural solution is to have Pontevedro's sovereign, Count Danilo, capture Hanna's heart and thus secure her wealth for their country.

Meanwhile, an affair is revealed between Valencienne, a Baron's young wife, and Camille, a young French attache. More on that shortly.

Cut to the ballroom scene, with plenty of sparkly dresses and light-as-air waltzing. Danilo and Hanna meet, but alas, the already know each other! Turns out they met when she was a penniless peasant girl and he was an up-and-coming nobleman. He broke her heart then, but now the tables are turned. Long-scene-short, Hanna and Danilo still have strong feelings for one another but are both too stubborn to admit it.

Two more scenes unfold, and when Valencienne and Camille are almost discovered, Hanna smartly steps in to replace Valencienne, coming up with the rouse that she and Camille are engaged (much to Danilo's chagrin). Still with me?

Cut to the final scene at Chez Maxim, a glitzy French cafe. Valencienne is furious at Camille, poor Camille is almost done over in a duel with the Count, and everyone is beside themselves as to whom Hanna will end up with. While I doubt this will spoil it for anyone, I'll leave out the details for now and suffice it to say that everyone lives "happily ever after."

Now The Merry Widow isn't like last season's Othello, as there's no dark, brooding drama. And it isn't quite like Cinderella, which had everyone enchanted from the first moment with the familiar tale of everyone's favorite rags-to-riches sweetheart. But nonetheless, The Merry Widow is a lighthearted, charming and rich ballet full of absolutely gorgeous dancing. Hynd constantly surprises you with his choreography, adding a creative tilt of the head, an unexpected lift, or a beguilingly supple line just when you think you know what's coming next. The evening is magical, the characters endearing, and the Joffrey shines doing what they do best -- a little of everything!