It has been a little over 50 years since the late British choreographer Sir Kenneth MacMillan adapted Abbé Prévost’s 1731 novel, L’Histoire du chevalier des Grieux et de Manon Lescaut – commonly known as Manon Lescaut or simply Manon – to a full length ballet.
Premiering at London’s Covent Garden in 1974 and performed by The Royal Ballet, MacMillan’s ability to illuminate a range of emotively charged circumstances and layers in his work continues to shine with agency.
In 1994, 20 years after its premiere, The Australian Ballet (AB) presented it in a sumptuously detailed production designed by Peter Farmer (sets and costumes) with lighting by Jacopo Pantani. Unpacked about every decade since, MacMillan’s mix of classical technique and creative daring paired with AB’s period-piece production – staged by Laura Morera and Gregory Mislin and relit seductively by Jason Morphett – bring a wealth of texture to the storytelling and a delicious feast of balletic movement and expression to the action.
It tells the story of the young woman, Manon, who falls for the student Des Grieux. Tempted by riches while manipulated by her brother Lescaut, she becomes the mistress of the wealthy Monsieur G.M. But Manon’s choices lead to betrayal, downfall and her eventual death in the arms of Des Grieux, far from the glittering salons of Paris to end in the soupy swamps of Louisiana.
Certainly, the artistic fusion of legible visual richness, an entire company in excellent full bloom and music that enthrals over its three acts – Orchestra Victoria (OV) is in utterly awesome form under the baton of Charles Barker – deserves the highest praise.
Prévost’s story has been kept alive in operatic form since 1856 but its first adaptation was as a ballet by Fromental Halévy in 1830. MacMillan’s creation is successfully fused to the music of Jules Massenet – composer of his own version of Manon in 1884 – in a luxurious orchestration and arrangement by Martin Yates. It’s a treat all the way from the flickering warmth of strings as the curtain rises to swathes of grandiose boldness, delicate tenderness and fluctuating moods to the doomed finale.
MacMillan’s version highlights the lure of wealth in a society starkly divided by the haves and the have nots to which Farmer has created an aesthetic drawing on Napoleonic-era France.
Here, Manon succumbs to the idea that materialistic riches can further her happiness as shades of power and powerlessness – as well as perceived abuse – etch their way onto the story. At the very least, Manon invites much curiosity in her character as a victim of iniquity.
Tracing Manon’s early hopes and final hopelessness with so much expressive detail in between, Principal Artist Robyn Hendricks gives a, beguiling, extraordinarily committed performance in the title role.
There’s a possible intended uncertainty of how to approach Manon when, as Des Grieux, Callum Linnane greets her robustly but wooden-like. That aura quickly melts away in the subsequent optimistic-filled first pas de deux with Hendricks in which the assuredness of a knight reigns.
A beautifully focused second pas de deux tenderly conveys the lovers’ intimacy in the privacy of their bedchamber and, sublime as that is, the best is saved for the final pas de deux as a weakening Manon is buttressed by Des Grieux’s resolve.
The chemistry Hendricks and Linnane share is always convincingly affecting. Even in navigating the change in circumstances as Manon is absorbed into a life of glamour, they never let you believe that Manon and Des Grieux’ hearts belong to anyone other than each other’s.
Fatefully hinged to their plight and making a somewhat unsavoury sort rather likeable, Lescaut is characterfully danced with splendorous technique by Maxim Zenin. Lescaut’s drunken arrival at a party at Madame X’s mansion in Act 2 is especially entertaining, intensifying further when joined by Isobelle Dashwood as his playful Mistress in a hoot of a clumsily intended pas de deux.
Adam Bull brings an appropriate distinguished air with added distasteful entitlement to Monsieur G.M., whose unashamedly predatory behaviour forms part of a compelling pas de trois with Hendricks and Zenin as Manon is enticed into leaving with the lecher.
Gillian Revie, as the aged, elegant and dark Madam X, and Franco Leo, as the scurrying, luckless Old Man add tinges of depth. And there’s plenty of exciting divertissements that garnish the story to raise spirits including, as my personal highlight, a troupe of male beggars leaping and cartwheeling in circus-like fashion in the midst of the goings on in Act 1’s courtyard inn.
Exquisitely detailed in its visual setting as it is in its period setting, MacMillan’s bristling choreography has enormous potential for interpretation with a freshened contemporary eye. It won’t disappoint, especially during its current season at the fittingly sumptuous Regent Theatre. But, perhaps this 30 year-old production has realistically reached its limit.
Manon
Regent Theatre, 191 Collins Street, Melbourne
Performance: Friday 10 October 2025
Season continues to 22 October 2025
Information and Bookings: www.australianballet.com.au
Images: Robyn Hendricks and Callum Linnane in Manon (MacMillan) – photo by Kate Longley | Callum Linnane and Robyn Hendricks and Artists of The Australian Ballet in Manon (MacMillan) – photo by Kate Longley | Robyn Hendricks and Artists of The Australian Ballet in Manon (MacMillan) – photo by Kate Longley | Maxim Zenin and Artists of The Australian Ballet in Manon (MacMillan) – photo by Kate Longley
Review: Paul Selar