Black Sabbath – The Ballet from Birmingham Royal Ballet brings together classical ballet and the music of Black Sabbath, the pioneering heavy metal band formed in Birmingham in 1968. It’s an ambitious and exciting meeting of a city, a band and a ballet company with a live orchestra, guitarist and a three-act ballet structure. In the mix is the history of Sabbath and the era when heavy metal crashed into the world.
All the ingredients are here for something unique, maybe even groundbreaking. Carlos Acosta is rightly revered, while Alexandra Dariescu’s musical direction and Christopher Austin’s arrangements are strong. Alexandre Arrechea’s set design and lighting by K.J, and choreography from Pontus Lidberg give us a story where stadium band and ballet company meet factory floor. This is a team at the top of their game, and the dancers are exceptional.
On paper, it’s exactly what it should be. But what’s promised in the programme artwork isn’t what we see on stage. It’s like all these wonderful elements met in the middle and shook hands instead of diving in. Both ballet and metal felt diluted – the bold, visceral energy I expected to see was there only in the concept.
Photo Credit : David Polston
Structurally, it needed a stronger hand. Some songs and themes felt misplaced. In a stunning section, a kiss, gorgeous and relentless, continues through an intricate dance and doesn’t break, but I wish it had been married to the band’s voiceover of how they began.
I know what it takes to make something like this, the graft, the artistry, the hours. But I also know what it’s like to make work from a raw place, to fight for high production values without sanding off the edges. I expected a clash. A storm. Hair down. Ballet’s brutal grace colliding with working-class distortion and defiance. This could have been seismic. Instead, at times it felt too polite.
That’s not to say there weren’t moments where it broke through. There were flashes of perfect symmetry between the two worlds. And moments where the clash really said something, like when the dancers traversed the stage carrying another dancer stiff like an instrument, then came alive and danced together before lugging them again. That told the story of the torturous commitment between the artist and their tools.
I wanted the music louder. The dance rawer. Ballet is physically punishing – its grace built on pain, discipline, and paradox. Black Sabbath was born of working-class struggle and flower power resistance. Together, those forces could have made something transcendent. But here, they circled each other too cautiously. Still, I saw the love in the room. I saw it in first soloist Riku Ito and his dance with on-stage guitarist Marc Hayward. That moment gave me everything I wanted.
As a piece of theatre, it is still a good show. It says things, maybe not what I expected, but things that are beautiful to watch.
Main image photo credit : David Polston
Black Sabbath: The Ballet is at Lowry, Salford until October 11, 2025. For more information, click here.
