The lights of Beverly Hills could be seen flickering in the distance, as these gals not only pranced on concrete, but laid down on the hard surface, as well. This was, if not a pas de deux for the ages, a glorious one for the twenty-first century, as, in this decidedly urban atmosphere (where they might, just possibly, be branded, well, lipstick lesbians), our R & J finally, at long last, were in the throes of a deep, passionate kiss.

When the action moved back inside, Kinouchi and ensemble member Aidan Tyssee, executed a kind of jig, before being joined by two gals, Audrey Sides and Hope Spears. This joyous feel for the music, and with hands on hips and heads cocked, was reminiscent of Agnes de Mille and her 1942 masterpiece, “Rodeo.” 

But the jig, unfortunately, was up, as Tybalt slayed Mercutio, with Romeo then killing Juliet’s brutish cousin, as payback. Performed to the blare of horns that could have been scored by Hitchcock (the sonic assault conjured memories of the piercing violins from Psycho), Juliet is then left alone on stage, again performing a rapturous solo, her arched back a wonder to behold, before swallowing an elixir. No liquid potion here, but a big fat, pinkish-hued pill (a megadose of fentanyl, perhaps?), with the script, as it has over the years, dictating that Juliet fall unconscious. 

The lights then dimmed and a funeral cortège—dancers, brandishing white tubes of light, marched down the aisle, with Romeo, by this time frantic, discovering Juliet’s lifeless body. In an emotional fog, he drags her in a “dancing with corpse” moment, before killing himself with a dagger, which his beloved will then use, of course, on herself upon awakening. 

With exceptional dancing, including ensemble members Jeremy Coachman, Marirosa Crawford, Matisse D’Aloisio, CJ Burroughs and Brendan Evans, and the work of video artist Olivier Simola, who is credited as artistic collaborator, this production retained its beating Shakespearean heart, one shot through with eternal beauty. And while violence, warring factions and hate continue to be ever present, Millepied’s multi-prismed vision offers a new take on balletic, gender, and theatrical ideals.