Understandably, given that the company performs “The Nutcracker” dozens of times during the holidays, not every performance offers the ideal version of Balanchine’s balanced construction. I have seen many an uninspired “Nutcracker.” But the evening of Dec. 5 came as close to the ballet’s full potential as I have seen it. Not only were there no mishaps, but the early scenes at the Stahlbaum’s Christmas party felt alive (not always true) and filled with warmth. Little details, like Olivia Bell’s clear pleasure in partaking in the parlor dances, popped. Playing the fun-loving grandmother, she cheekily flirted with grandpa, Andres Zuniga, tempting him with her shoulders. Sean Suozzi was a refined and benevolent Drosselmeier, without the edge some interpreters add to the role. (He did not spin grandma around and around, causing her to feel faint, for example.) The children looked precise but not overly rehearsed, a difficult balance. Theo Rochios, an eleven-year-old enrolled at the School of American Ballet who danced the role of the nutcracker boy/prince, was touching in his seriousness, his care for Marie, and his carefully-placed relevé. It’s too bad that the lighting in the all-important transformation scene, in which his nutcracker costume is snatched away revealing a small young boy in a pink suit, was ill-timed and overly muted. It stole some of Rochios’s thunder. The snowflakes danced with precision, through-body-energy, and speed, without looking rushed. The orchestra, under Andrews Sill, kept a brisk, but not heartless, pace, making the first act feel like a constantly-moving, seamless whole.

In the second act, which contains most of the dancing, the casting for each of the numbers in the divertissement—dances related to a type of candy and a related nationality—was mostly apt. Olivia McKinnon was an impeccable Marzipan à la française, with pin-prick pointework, strong hops on one toe, and well-executed gargouillades, a jump in which each lower leg traces a little circle in the air. Davide Riccardo was a dashing Spanish dancer in Hot Chocolate, partnered by India Bradley, who has an unfortunate tendency to look down as she dances. Gilbert Bolden III now owns the part of Mother Ginger, a gender-reversed role danced on stilts in a gigantic 18th century dress with panniers. He has fully embraced the role’s drag accents, primping and preening in the background as the little pulcinellas dance at his feet. Yes, he steals some attention away from them, but his interpretation projects such warmth and delight (in himself and in the children) that you instantly forgive him.