TERRIFIC, terrible Tybalt, moody, magnificent Mercutio… and a Romeo so rampant that the hormones hang in the air like incense.
Oh yes, you could cut this atmosphere with one of these young men’s swords. Mind you, the chance would be a fine thing, for the fight scenes are so dramatic and convincing that you periodically feel like ducking for cover behind the Birmingham Hippodrome seats.
This stupendous ballet – the second in the company’s Shakespeare celebration year – took this tale of doomed love and turned it into a night of unforgettable dance.
From the emotion-drenched performances by the cast, to Paul Andrews’ stunning primary colour designs that evoked Renaissance paintings, which in turn are gloriously complemented by John B. Read’s lighting, this piece achieved the impossible by adding even more to what is arguably the Bard’s greatest creation.
Meanwhile, dark and sonorous chords underscore the story, Prokofiev’s score at times bleaker than that desolate dark hour before the dawn and cruel destiny’s fulfilment.
For these protagonists are swept along not only by the fates but also by the composer’s tidal wave of sound that, like the swordsmen, neither seeks nor grants mercy. It is truly magnificent, an all-enveloping feast for the senses. 
If only the late great choreographer Kenneth MacMillan were still around to see what this talented team had done with his great work.
Tyrone Singleton’s Tybalt is a veritable monster in red tights, his character dominating the stage whenever Romeo is away on balcony duties. 
He lurks on the margins, like some merciless, killer pike patrolling the fringes of the lily pads, surveying the open water and the many potential victims that cling together for safety in tightly packed, nervous shoals.
I have never seen the Capulet’s sinister hitman in such form and it is hard to imagine how Singleton could ever better this jaw-dropping display of character dance. He snarls and struts, a poisonous peacock whose quills are as sharp as the rapier he uses to such deadly effect.
With great bravado, Yasuo Atsuji’s Benvolio laughs at the bully boy, but is nevertheless also concerned for Mercutio, whose contempt for the preening predator means he fatally casts caution to the wind.
And when the end comes, as indeed it must, Mathias Dingman delivers a dying scene so poetic that his descent into eternity becomes a vision of seductive beauty, death effortlessly becoming art.
And so we come to Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers, whose presence and flawless understanding of the roles leaves the observer completely spellbound.
Juliet (Jenna Roberts) lives and breathes the part, at times agonisingly convincing as the young girl torn between duty to family and her love for a man on the wrong side of Verona’s tracks.
Her every move is imbued with emotion and feeling, each facial expression a barometer of the changing conditions that will inevitably end in disaster for so many.
And as for Romeo (Iain Mackay), rarely has any performer given so much to the role as he did on this memorable night. The couple’s pas de deux, involving seemingly endless gravity-defying lifts, was utterly electrifying, amazing to behold.
Little wonder then that the audience went wild with applause when that curtain finally came down, a deafening roar that raised the Hip’s rafters.
Birmingham Royal Ballet has delivered many memorable performances but this production must surely go down in the annals as one of, if not the very best, that they have created since the company’s arrival in the Second City more than two decades ago. Truly mind-blowing.
Romeo and Juliet runs at the Birmingham Hippodrome until Saturday (February 27).