For some time now ordinary multiplex cinemas, normally full of movies for the kiddies, superhero sagas or bang-bang car-chasefests, have been advertising something rather different: operas and ballets from the Royal Opera House and plays from the National Theatre.  Up till now we have been put off by the fact that the price of entrance was two or three times what we would normally pay to watch a movie.  But yesterday we went to one of these shows for the first time, and were captivated.

We go to the ballet at Covent Garden quite frequently (thanks to our friend who makes a box available to us for dress rehearsals, knowing Jane’s love of drawing dancers in motion).

But this was not possible in the case of ‘The Winter’s Tale’, the first   major work commissioned by Kevin O’Hare since he took over as Director in 2012 (the previous one having been ‘Alice's Adventures in Wonderland’, commissioned by Monica Mason, O’Hare’s predecessor, and first performed in 2011). 

‘Alice’ - which we had seen twice, both times with great pleasure - was the result of close and fruitful collaboration between Christopher Wheeldon (the choreographer),  Joby Talbot (the composer) and Bob Crowley (the designer).  So, when we saw that the same team was behind the new ballet,  we were not going to turn down the chance of seeing its successor, even if it was on the cinema screen rather than live at the Royal Opera House.

And when we arrived at screen 4 we were given a leaflet produced by the Royal Ballet from which we learned that all the principal dancers we were about to see had already featured in ‘Alice’, including Lauren Cuthbertson and Sarah Lamb, both of whom had danced the title role.

Alice, in fact, was the only really meaty role in the production, some of the other principals playing two parts, as if to justify their salary: notably Edward Watson as Lewis Carroll and the White Rabbit; and Federico Bonelli as Jack (the gardener’s lad) and the Knave of Hearts.

In “The Winter’s Tale’, by contrast, all six principals have important roles (rare, if not unprecedented, in the world of ballet where, typically, a female and a male dancer dominate: Romeo & Juliet; Cinderella & the Prince, among many others).

In the Prologue and Act One, we focus on Leontes, king of Sicilia (Watson) and Polixenes, king of Bohemia (Bonelli), happily reunited after many years separation. Polixenes has been living at the court of his friend for nine months and has become close to Hermione (Cuthbertson), wife of Leontes. Leontes and Hermione are blissfully happy, with a young son and another child about to be born.  But things are about to change, with chilling suddenness. 

In an on-screen introduction to the ballet we had been made aware of exactly when this was to happen: the moment when Hermione, standing between the two friends, takes first her husband’s hand, then that of his friend, placing them side by side on her swollen stomach, presumably to feel the child kicking.  Suddenly Leontes is gripped by the suspicion that the child may not be his, music and choreography underlining his descent into something approaching madness, with his wife being sent to prison where the child, a daughter, is born.

Paulina, the head of Hermione’s household (powerfully played by Zenaida Yanowsky, the daunting Red Queen from ‘Alice’) brings the infant to Leontes, hoping to convince him that he is the real father; but he rejects the child and orders Paulina’s husband Antigonus to take it away and abandon it.  Hermione is brought to trial, as a result of which both she and her young son Mamillius collapse and die.

Act Two begins 16 years later. Perdita (Sarah Lamb), the daughter of Leontes and Hermione, has been brought up by the shepherd who saved her.   She knows nothing of her birth, and neither does her young lover, Prince Florizel (played by Steven McRae, the furiously tap-dancing Mad Hatter from ‘Alice’), who is the son of Polixenes, but is known to the other villagers only as a shepherd boy.

The doom-laden music, decor and action of the second half of Act One have been replaced by arcadian delight, culminating in the moment when Perdita, about to be crowned May Queen, is presented by her presumed father with a beautiful emerald necklace which he had found round the neck of the baby girl.

Polixenes is furious when he learns that his son is ready to marry a shepherd lass; but all turns out well in Act Three when the necklace is discovered, leading to the reconciliation of all parties, including the revelation that Hermione is still alive, having been concealed by the trusty Paulina all those years.

A marvellous production all round, with a perfect fusion of music and choreography;  one which - of course - we would have loved to see at Covent Garden. But, to give them credit, the people behind the filming had done everything possible to attempt to recreate the experience of attending a live show. We were given the same two intervals with appropriate closing and opening of the curtains - the cinema joining in by offering wine for sale by the glass, bless them - and the production ending with curtain calls, much bowing and presentation of bouquets of flowers to the principal ballerinas.

Of course it was not the same as a live show. But there were ways in which we got more out of the production than if we had been there at the ROH.  To start with, before each of the three parts of the ballet there was Darcey Bussell introducing the various people responsible for creating the new ballet, all of whom made us aware of many aspects of the production which might otherwise have passed us by; for instance, how closely the choreographer and composer worked together, as well as  how input from the dancers helped to shape the choreography, even the nature of the costumes.

But most of all, instead of seeing the whole stage the whole time (or even just two thirds of it, as may happen when you are in a box,) we were allowed to move more closely into the action, which allowed us to see - in ways  normally impossible - how the greatest dancers express their feelings and emotions through their faces as well as their bodies.

So, will we turn down the chance to see more ballets at Covent Garden?  That’s hardly likely. But I imagine that we will also be taking our seats at the local Odeon again for another way of experiencing the ballet.