There’s an undeniable sense of occasion to Carlos Acosta’s reworking of Carmen, a piece that arrives with pedigree, flair and a clear desire to shake the dust off a well-worn story. Drawing on Prosper Mérimée’s novella and Georges Bizet’s ever-popular opera, this version strips things back to a lean, two-act ballet, set to Rodión Shchedrin’s punchy, Cuban-tinged reworking of the score. The result is a production that looks sharp and moves with intent, even if it doesn’t always land emotionally.

Acosta’s concept is simple enough: a love triangle fuelled by jealousy and desire, as Don José throws everything away for Carmen, only to be cast aside when she turns her attention to Escamillo. It’s a story that thrives on heat and inevitability, and there’s plenty of both here, played out in designer Pedro Benitez’s sparse, stylised world that foregrounds the dancers and the movement.

In this cast, Amisaday Naara’s Carmen is all sharp edges and cool command, less sultry temptress and more untouchable force. Opposite her, Alejandro Silva brings a restless intensity to Don José, his descent into jealousy clearly etched- if a little rushed-, while Paul Brando’s Escamillo swaggers convincingly, cutting through the drama with a charismatic touch.

Where the production really clicks is in its choreography. Acosta blends classical ballet with grounded, Latin-inflected movement to striking effect, creating sequences that feel both polished and instinctive. At its best, particularly in the ensemble scenes, there’s a real sense of Cuban energy surging through the stage- hips loose, rhythms infectious, the whole thing fizzing with life. It’s here that the show feels most itself: bold, physical and unashamedly stylish.

But that energy isn’t evenly distributed. Act 1, in particular, feels oddly restrained, gesturing towards that Latin flair rather than fully committing to it. A flicker of castanets here, a hint of heat there- it takes too long to build into the richer, more immersive world that Act 2 delivers with far greater confidence.

More problematic is the emotional core. This is a slimline Carmen, and in trimming the story, something vital feels missing. The relationships never quite settle, leaving the final tragedy feeling more distant than devastating. Even with early foreshadowing, the ending arrives without the weight it needs.

There are also a few rough edges- the odd missed cue, a slight lapse in timing- which take the sheen off moments that should crackle.

Still, there’s enough here to admire. When Acosta leans fully into the fusion of ballet and Latin fire, it’s compelling, even exhilarating. It just doesn’t quite burn as deeply as it should.

Playing at Manchester’s Opera House until Saturday 25th April. Further information and booking details can be found here.

Tickets received in exchange for an honest review. #AD

Photography by Katja Ogrin.