Richard Lutz adds a second insight into Le Fille mal Gardee among the kindergarden critics.

For some reason, I ended up in the kids’ section for the Birmingham Royal Ballet’s production of La Fille mal gardee and it was illuminating to say the least.

It was a matinee and all the mothers and grannies were taking their precious little sprogs to see their first dance programme. Amid the crisps, sweeties and ice cream- and pleas for more junk- there was a simple childlike pleasure – gasps and laughter from the kids- as this great little ballet unfolded.

There were maypole dances, whacko clog dances, pantomime dames, hayseed simpletons and, to top it off for the kiddie section, even a tiny white pony pulling a flower encrusted trap (the horse didn’t dance).

I know, for sure, that to entertain a small child is one of the hardest things to do. They can be cruel critics. But the Saturday afternoon mini-audience, indulged and wrapped inside their elders embraces, loved it.

As for the ballet itself, Frederick Ashton, the choreographer, laid great store in the rural Englishness of it all- albeit romanticised. He himself loved the stillness of the rolling English landscape and his ballet evokes his love of the countryside.

Of course, his ideals of English farming folk doesn’t come within a billion miles of the agro-workers you rub up against in a village pub. But the light of a spring day (not too far away actually) bounces off the scenery and the simple funny story remains enchanting.

Birmingham Royal Ballet sometimes drifts into meaningless narrative productions (Hobson’s Choice or Cyrano) where it is reduced to the level of a preposterous mimed panto. But this gets the company back to watchable pure dance.