Woodville Halls, Gravesend

Hardly a day goes by without some dire warning about the consequences of obesity, but even the pundits could not have envisioned the Big Ballet as a legitimate alternative to couch potatoes. Each of the 16 women who make up this Russian company tips the scales at more than 17 stone. More power to them for flaunting their flesh; in doing so they earn our goodwill, but not good reviews.

I would love to report that this is great fun, but at best it is amateur theatrics. It takes all of ten minutes for the novelty to wear off and much less time to spot that none of these women can really dance. Big they may be, but to call it “ballet” amounts to a breach of branding. Just one woman climbs up on pointe, and for all of 25 seconds.

Over the past decade Britain has had more than its fair share of touring ballet companies from the former Soviet Union, some better than others; but none has had quite the lopsided raison d’être as this one. The Big Ballet isn’t art, it’s burlesque.

Sexual innuendo pumps up the interminable second half which features 18 relentless disco numbers. But before they start flashing, the women spend the first act giving us Hens and Pens and Swan Plus. This is an egregious Swan Lake parody about barnyard chickens (in green afros and floral housecoats) who “dream of a better life than that on the farm”. It would be kindest to Tchaikovsky not to broadcast how his music has been changed. Sufficient to point out that Black Swan has been transformed into a petulant, red-tutued critter called Madam Hen-not-a-bird.

In the second half, when the women are joined by six lithe men who call themselves the Fighting Club Dance Company, the ladies perform quasi-strips in costumes including fetish garb, go-go dresses, fedoras and chemises, and harem outfits.

The men basically quiver and shiver, except in the evening’s weirdest number when they are dressed in female Victorian beekeeper outfits with hooped skirts and large hats draped in veils. This routine, danced to Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, morphs into an all-out Chippendales number. The men don’t quite go the full monty, but this proved to be the audience favourite.

London is not one of the 27 nights on the Big Ballet’s UK tour. Given the capital’s love for Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, this is probably a wise decision. The Trocks may be men in drag, but they are superior in every way to these very big ballerinas.

The tour continues until March 28

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