Whatever you think of Giselle as a woman — saint or fool — there is no denying the power of her tragic story. Which is why this touchstone of the Romantic ballet repertoire is as alive today as it was 160 years ago. That’s especially so when you have a production as sensitively staged — and as vividly danced — as Peter Wright’s for the Royal Ballet, here revived for a good run of performances between now and the end of April.

Wright’s version is a perennial favourite because it champions traditional values and respects the choreography’s heritage (Marius Petipa after Jean Coralli and Jules Perrot). With John Macfarlane’s attractive designs evoking a Rhineland setting, and with Boris Gruzin’s vigorous conducting of the Adam score churning the emotions, all the elements are in place for a great evening.

Wright hones the drama in this tale of a peasant girl who kills herself when she discovers that the man she loves is betrothed to another. At midnight in the misty forest, her spirit saves said lover from the murderous wrath of the avenging Wilis.

Not many women today would forgive such a blatant liar, but Tamara Rojo makes you believe in the strength of Giselle’s love for Albrecht, even from beyond the grave. Leading the opening night cast, Rojo sparkled in Act I, her Giselle anxious to be wooed but skittish all the same. Her dancing was a display of classical quality backed by fabulous strength, while her mad scene was a knockout, full-bodied drama from a flesh-and-blood woman. In the spirit world Rojo becomes something else, a glorious throwback to the 19th century, dancing on a breath, there and not there, ethereal and beautiful, yet still connected to the lifeline of her love for Albrecht.

Carlos Acosta’s Count is a likeable rogue whose betrayal of Giselle prompts no real conscience until he sees the tragic consequences of his infidelity. Act II is for him a sustained act of contrition, his dancing desperately willing Giselle back to life. On Tuesday his final solo was handsomely delivered — eager big jumps and perfectly spun turns. With dancing this good he didn’t deserve to die. The Wilis, those ghostly jilted brides who dance to death any man who crosses their path, were sensational. Led by Zenaida Yanowsky’s imposing Myrtha, their lust for revenge is a sight you don’t want to miss.

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