Instead of a clear villain in a sea-witch, Kumakawa offers the Shark, cunning and stealthy but a co-existing part of the undersea world until the Prince’s harpoon wounds him in his throw towards the whale. The storm he conjures washes the Prince overboard—entertaining stagecraft on its own—leading to the Mermaid’s fateful meet-cute. Although many of the familiar plot points remain, like the Mermaid trading her voice for legs or the murderous option at the climax, new characters and ideas populate the ballet as part of Kumakawa’s own unique vision. 

While there’s plenty to satisfy the classical palate regarding choreography, there’s also a constant, subtle thread of the unexpected in Kumakawa’s choices that thrillingly upend expectations, satisfying for aficionados always eager for something different. Effectively mimicking the aquatic movements of an undersea world is one such achievement, particularly with the fluttering arms of the Mermaids or the enchanting, bobbing flow of the Dolphins and the Flying Fish. The superb setting and lights inform the whole and Atlagić’s costumes are a constant joy to encounter, with clever additions like the swish of hinged, upturned skirts to suggest the mermaid’s tails, the whimsical glee of the hermit crabs or the dark majesty of the Shark.  

From start to finish, it’s difficult to find anything to truly critique. Children in the audience may not understand the tragic undertones of the Mermaid’s last, anguished solo, gripping the Prince’s knife with indecision, nor the final, gorgeously wistful pas de deux with the Prince, nor the harsh meaning of the closing scene. It’s a powerfully understated dramatic choice that somehow heightens the overall magic of the production. Breaking his own ceiling once again, Kumakawa spins K-Ballet Tokyo ever upwards, towards that elusive artistic perfection he so openly seeks. We’re looking to the stars in Tokyo, or perhaps a different galaxy, for the next 25 years.