The Australian Ballet has opened its 2025 season with a revival of Nijinsky, choreographed by John Neumeier. Returning to the company nearly a decade after its Australian premiere, this production is a testament to the enduring brilliance of Neumeier’s vision and the exceptional artistry of the Australian Ballet. Danced at the Regent Theatre on opening night, Nijinsky is more than a biographical ballet; it is an exploration of the fragile boundary between genius and madness, between the stage and the self, between memory and hallucination.
Neumeier’s creation is an intricate tapestry of dance and theatre, shifting between the fragments of Vaslav Nijinsky’s mind in his final performance at the Suvretta House Hotel in St Moritz in 1919. The first act, set against a beautifully realised interior of the hotel, plays out like a mirage, with guests arriving, chatting, and stirring in anticipation before the performance truly begins. From the moment Callum Linnane’s Nijinsky steps onto the stage, the weight of history and tragedy looms large. Linnane embodies the legendary dancer with extraordinary intensity—his performance is marked by an emotional depth that shifts from the commanding presence of an artist in his prime to the fragile, unraveling mind of a man on the brink of insanity.
The supporting cast adds rich layers to this deeply psychological narrative. Elijah Trevitt, Marcus Morelli, Brodie James, and Jake Mangakahia shine as figures from Nijinsky’s artistic and personal past, while Grace Carroll, Jill Ogai, and Maxim Zenin bring compelling portrayals of the key figures in his life. Neumeier masterfully blurs the line between reality and memory—characters appear and disappear like echoes of the past, their interactions charged with uncertainty. A particular highlight of the first act is the boat passage between Nijinsky and his future wife, Romola de Pulszky, in which chaos and romance intertwine in a brilliantly choreographed sequence.
The first act’s sequences, set to Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, are intoxicatingly beautiful. The corps de ballet, dressed in vivid costumes, recreates some of Nijinsky’s most famous pieces with a sweeping sense of nostalgia. Neumeier’s choreography here is deliberate and detailed, drawing from historical references but never feeling trapped in the past. The seamless transitions between these dreamlike fragments create a striking contrast to the raw, feverish energy of the second act.
As the ballet moves into the second act, the world fractures further. Shostakovich’s music propels the narrative into a harrowing vision of World War I, where the dancers’ vocalisations and physical intensity make the violence feel all too real. The stage design transforms—LED circles punctuate the darkness, evoking both isolation and the tightening grip of insanity. The impact of war, loss, and betrayal converges in these scenes, creating an almost overwhelming sense of devastation. One of the most haunting moments comes in the depiction of domestic violence between Nijinsky and Romola—a performance so gripping and painful that the theatre seemed to hold its breath.
The final moments bring us full circle, back to the Suvretta House, where reality reasserts itself, but not before Nijinsky delivers his last dance. The guests, the phantoms of his past, dissolve into memory, leaving only the man and his madness. It is an ending that lingers, both tragic and transcendent.
The audience on opening night responded with a fervour that had been restrained throughout the performance, erupting into a standing ovation as the curtain fell. As an added delight, Neumeier himself made an appearance on stage, a fitting tribute to his remarkable work and the exceptional execution by the Australian Ballet.
Nijinsky is a triumph—both as a revival and as a profound statement on the power of dance to capture the deepest recesses of human experience. The Australian Ballet has not only met the immense challenges of this production but has elevated it to new heights. This is a ballet that demands to be seen, a production that lingers in the mind long after the final bow.