Cinderella at the Royal Opera House: Can a glass ballet slipper lead to a happily ever after?

The Tooth Fairy, Father Christmas, and the Easter Bunny. As a child, these were mere examples of the figures in whose existence I had complete faith. But growing up and growing out of fairytales seems a part of life. The adult mind is saturated with doubt and skepticism. We now face a harsh reality, without our fairy godmothers and glass slippers, it appears that we shan't be going to the ball. As we become increasingly rational with age, have we forgotten how to believe in magic?

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Through an unfortunate lack of foresight, I found myself without tickets to the most coveted performance of the Royal Ballet’s winter season: Cinderella. However, fortune smiled upon me when a last-minute return allowed my friend and I to ascend to a lofty pair of seats - though I soon regretted my lack of opera glasses for this matinee.

This classic rags-to-riches tale follows the titular character, with a rather unfortunate portmanteau for a name. Her step-sisters brought an element of pantomime to the stage, their antics guided by the jaunty melodies of the orchestra. Their impertinent behaviour drew a direct contrast to Cinderella’s grace. Cinderella’s generosity proves serendipitous as she offers food to a beggar woman by day, fairy godmother by night. As a result, Cinderella is granted passage to the ball with the help of some seasonal fairies and the stars, with a magical, glistering tutu to wear and an enlarged pumpkin as her ride. The magical transformation showcased some of the most gorgeous costumes, and it was clear that no expense was spared. Alexandra Bryne’s detailed costume design splendidly dressed every member of the corps from head to toe. Her wonderful craftsmanship was exemplified in every ornate detail of the glass slippers or should I say, bejewelled pointe shoes.

At the ball, Cinderella spends brief yet enthralling moments with the Prince, who instantly falls in love. Due to poor time management, a lovestruck Cinderella is caught off-guard by the hour and she rushes from the palace, leaving behind a solitary pointe shoe. Luckily, her apparently unique shoe-size helps the Prince identify her as his lost love, and the red curtain falls upon the happy couple walking into the distance.

At the curtain call, the audience, transfixed by the beauty of the production, were united in applause. Granted, we can't believe in magic forever, while reality goes on around us. But perhaps just for a day, Ashton’s enchanting choreography, Prokofiev’s lilting score and the glamour of the Royal Opera House invites us all to believe in magic once more.