Review: Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, Bradford Alhambra *****

OK they’re all blokes with hairy chests and body-builder muscles rippling beneath their tutus. But The Trocks, as they are universally known, are not drag queens but gifted males dancers who take on female roles par excellence. Sometimes it’s hard to believe they are men with their dazzling pointe-work, fusillades of fouettes and other balletic fireworks.

The Grand pas Classique, a Kirov favourite, was danced straight with Emanuel Abbruzzo so convincing that he deserves a job with the Royal Ballet, his timing and mercurial allegro work better than many a female. Slick actors, they have the audience in the palms of their hands as they parody the nuances of the classical repertoire, all exaggerated head movements, flashing eyes and improvised mime. And of course there’s a swipe at vanity and onstage rivalry with showboating princes, icy looks, and the odd well-aimed kick.

We roared with laughter from the opening announcements in a Russian accent like the TV meerkat: “Simples”, to the unforgettable take on Pavlova’s Dying Swan. Feathers moulting at every move, Ida Nevasayneva, aka Paul Ghiselin, was a deadpan hit in horn-rimmed glasses.

The opening Swan Lake Act II was a triumph for sassy Robert Carter as Supphozova, all fluttering eyelashes and whiplash spins, a dazzlingly spoofy Odette, but dancing Odile’s steps, with her towering partner Joshua Grant as the fetching Ashley Romanoff-Titwillow.

The tripping, falling, fluttering swans were priceless as was the clever swipe at Balanchine, Go for Barocco, the dancers parodying the pared-down pure dance of the maestro.

After the surreal romp of Raymonda’s Wedding with lanky Joshua Grant and diminutive Boysie Dakobe uproarious as the little and large partnership, we were treated to a spot of Riverdance. You can’t knock the Trocks for diversity. Watch out Michael Flatley.