Matthew Bourne's "Swan Lake" is pure theatre and is most likely
the most impressive and significant show to open on Broadway in a long time. The
scope of its significance has no bounds and the impression it makes on the
psyche and soul is indelible."Swan Lake" opens with The Young Prince (Andrew Walkinshaw) tossing and turning in his very large bed, agitated by nightmares. Above him appears a figure from his imagination, a powerful swan. The figure disappears and his mother The Queen (Isabel Mortimer) enters his room to console him; however, when he reaches out to her (a gesture repeated throughout the piece), she turns away from him unable to give him the love and attention and acceptance that he needs. In the remainder of the first act, we see The Young Prince and The Prince now grown (Ben Wright) attempting to adjust to being part of a Royal Family. He is paraded around by his mother, they both wave a lot (as Royals do), smile a lot (as Royals must), cut ribbons and launch new ships. But all of this activity does not satisfy the Prince's need for love. This is a Prince struggling with issues of separation and individuation, sexual identity, and self realization. His Private Secretary (Barry Atkinson) continuously tries to set him up with a girlfriend (Emily Piercy). The Queen does not approve of this commoner (sound familiar) and The Prince becomes more frustrated in his ability to find a significant relationship and determines to commit suicide by throwing himself into the lake in the park on the grounds of the palace.
His attempt is subverted by The Swan (Will Kemp) who emerges from the water. The Prince recognizes The Swan from his dreams and is instantly attracted to him. The Swan is joined by other swans who seem to threaten The Prince. The Swan controls them and protects The prince, becoming his soul mate and his reason to live. This scene is brilliant. The choreography and direction are perfect. The acting and the dancing throughout are exceptional. More importantly, the Swan's embrace of The Prince is the moment he recognizes who he is and what kind of love he wants and needs. He is able to accept that he is gay and finds a peace that he has never known before.
In the second act, despite the growth he has experienced, the Prince falls into deeper despair, particularly when, at a dance, he recognizes an intruder to look just like his Swan. The events which follow result not in life, but in the accidental death of the Girlfriend. The Prince is subjected to shock therapy and psychotropic drugs. Alone in his bed, he is visited by the swans who quickly disappear. The Prince's Swan emerges from the bed and in a tender and beautiful fashion, invites The Prince onto the bed. The other swans re-enter and kill The Swan. The Prince, alone, dies of complete despair. His mother enters to discover her dead son and for the first time expresses emotion, even love for him. Above the bed appears The Swan with the Young Prince cradled in his wings.
Matthew Bourne has created an intense psychological drama. His choice of male swans is exactly what Tchaikovsy's music requires. These beautiful bare chested dancers (and the black leathered version of The Swan at the party) are the perfect medium for the Prince to discover and celebrate his sexuality. And although the Prince is unashamedly gay, "Swan Lake" is universal in its appeal and accessible to all persons who know what it means to be misunderstood, confused about sexuality and love, and long for intimacy and relationship.
"People write to me and say, 'Oh, it's about my father, a missing father figure, or about someone you can't have, really,"' says Bourne. "Basically, it's this thing of someone who needs to be loved, and the heart of the Prince-Swan relationship is just the Prince being held. That's the emotional high point, or at least it should be."
Neither Royal Families nor families of swans tolerate well what they perceive as vastly different from the norm, especially if that difference might result in defection or abandonment of the family and its traditions, norms, values, and expectations. The Prince's Swan fantasy allows the character and the audience to experience at the deepest levels the issues of becoming a distinct, separate individual and the risks involved in "leaving the flock."
For the Prince and his love the male Swan, redemption comes through death. But not even the pecking of his swan mates nor the poking and prodding of the Prince's nurses and doctor can ultimately defeat the love the two found in each other's embrace. As the Queen approaches her dead son on his bed -- the closest she has come to expressing any sincere human emotion throughout -- the audience sees the Swan and the Prince above and behind the bed, in an embrace which will eternally link their hearts and their love and gives hope to all who search for love and meaning in relationship. When our "perceived" self merges with our "real" self, there is usually some kind of death and loss, but more importantly, there is a rebirth. When the curtain rises for the cast's curtain call, Will Kemp and Ben Wright come on stage first to take their bows. And this seems very right. It is important for the audience to know that these two actors/dancers and these two characters care for one another, love one another. As the rest of the cast appears and, later, are rejoined by Kemp and Wright, the audience feels just a little closer to believing that true love is possible, that women and men can find and give non-judgmental and unconditional love to others and to themselves. Bravo, Matthew Bourne!!