Leigh Donlan reviewed American Ballet Theatre’s evening performance on 20th July, 2024, at New York’s Metropolitan Opera House
ABT closed their summer season with the return of Christopher Wheeldon’s Like Water for Chocolate, a full-length story ballet based on the well-known modern Mexican novel, and a co-production with The Royal Ballet that was new to New York last season. Rapid story development propels us through some fantastical sets, episodes of magical cooking and generations of family dysfunction, all set to a Broadway-esque score (Joby Talbot, orchestrations by Ben Foskett). Dr. John Brown (the adorable Jarod Curley) wins the award for most well-adjusted character, while Gillian Murphy wins for best dramatic actress as the wicked Mama Elena. Devon Teuscher and Joo Wan Ahn make the best of their predictable leading characters, Tita and Pedro, both delivering polished performances.
A stunning opening scene saw 12 veiled brides in white clutching blood red bouquets. Harbingers of tragedy, they turned around, shapeshifting into heavily cloaked crones. They spent much of the rest of the ballet perched above the action, knitting ominously.
Having not read the book, I don’t know how faithful the ballet is to it, but the staged version is action-packed, and some of it is entrancing. In a quick progression of scenes, manipulative Mama Elena forbids Tita to marry her true love, Pedro, relegating Tita to Cinderella duties, including the cooking of magical meals. Pedro settles for Tita’s sister Rosaura (Betsy McBride) instead – and the wedding cake, infused with Tita’s tears, causes the guests to become violently ill. In no time at all, Tita is “miraculously” breastfeeding Pedro and Rosaura’s newborn son (according to program notes.) That might catch one off guard.
As might Wheeldon’s oddly embellished choreography. Into his mostly classical technique, he sprinkles a mix of flexed appendages, head and shoulder rolls, bent knees on pointe, and at moments when these serve no purpose. Wheeldon sculpts airy lifts at the height of which Tita suddenly flexes her feet. It’s a visually interesting moment but what does the abrupt foot flex mean?
As Tita’s magical powers grow, she concocts a quail dish with a sauce made from the petals of a rose given to her by Pedro – which sends her other sister, Gertrudis (the brilliant Breanne Granlund), into an ecstatic fit. Gertrudis tears off her clothes and performs a passionate Bolero-like dance on the kitchen table while dancers in harem pants, conjured up by Tita’s cooking, writhe around her. Summoned by the aroma of rose petals, a gallant revolutionary soldier, Juan Alejandrez (the dashing Michael de la Nuez) gallops in on an impressively sculpted horse and whisks the enraptured Gertrudis away.
Post-party events take a dark turn. Tita and Pedro’s affair is discovered by Mama Elena, who then banishes Pedro, Rosaura and the baby from the ranch. Suddenly, the baby dies under mysterious circumstances. Tita blames Mama Elena, who cryptically mimes the sealing of her lips, and beats Tita until she breaks down. The steadfast Dr. John rescues her. In an ingenious use of set design, he pulls on the edge of a large lace scrim to keep Tita warm; as they walk away from Mama Elena, the scrim becomes a large trailing veil.
Mama Elena dies in Act II. At her wake, Tita reads her mother’s old diary packed with the secrets that likely sparked her mother’s cruelty. Gillian Murphy as Elena dances the young woman’s romantic dream thwarted by her parents in variations that proved heartrending. Provoked by Dr. John’s and Tita’s engagement, Pedro turns up the heat and aggressively seduces Tita in a duet that features a series of extreme lifts. In one sequence, he thrusts his head between her knees so that she’s forced to wrap her legs around his shoulders, at one point draping herself upside down on his back.
Which brought us to the evening’s best costume winner. Celebrating Tita and Dr. John’s engagement around a campfire, the ensemble whirls into a vortex from which the ghost of Mama Elena (still Murphy) bursts, like an erupting volcano, her head in flames above an enormous billowing black skirt. Pedro naturally has a heart attack.
The drama simmers down as the family curse is broken in Act III. Rosaura appears to continue the family legacy of abusing her daughter but her marriage fails, her health declines, and she perishes. Pedro recovers from his heart attack. Among the evening’s most delightful dances is a pas de deux for Pedro and Rosaura’s daughter Esperanza (Elliana Quiner) and Dr. John’s son Alex (William Goldsman) – simple and innocent, uncorrupted by the tweaking of extremities that Wheeldon often favors.
20 years later, back on the ranch, the kids marry. Tita and Pedro reunite for their final duet which, through no fault of the dancers, was light on passion, heavy on theatrics, their entwined bodies hoisted up and ignited as they transcend the earthly realm.
This story ballet feels like a Broadway show, relying heavily on the fantastic sets and costumes to steer the busy narrative, while underutilizing ABT’s world class dancers, particularly the ensemble. Many of their routines are pure kitsch, like the country line dances complete with cowboy hats and stomping. The essential problem with this work is that it doesn’t belong on Broadway because the dancing is too balletic, but it’s also a poor fit for the Met stage because the classical dance elements are overshadowed by the theatrics.
