I know, I know. You've seen the Nutcracker. Everybody and their mother has. But the Pacific Northwest Ballet's production is probably better than the one you saw.

Why? Because PNB's artistic director Kent Stowell enlisted awesome children's illustrator Maurice Sendak (Where the Wild Things Are) to design the entire set. They've transformed McCaw Hall into an acid trip worthy experience, complete with a 27-foot Mouse King. (Can you imagine seeing that thing on drugs? Yikes!)

Anyway. My point isn't that you should take drugs before seeing the show. In fact, you shouldn't. It's annoying enough when people get drunk at the event (I'll get to in a second.) My point is that Seattle's Nutcracker takes the cake from its counterparts. The cast does a fantastic job creating its own gorgeous--and slightly macabre--rendition of the ballet.

Thoe show runs through December 30. Tickets run $24-$130 (with discounts for children 12 and under) and are well worth the price.

That being said, I'd like to offer two bits of advice for future audience members:

1.) If you've got a tiny kid, don't forget to get a booster seat from the coat check lobby. The poor girl behind me spent the entire first half of the show huffing and "whispering" that she couldn't see. This made her unhappy and in turn, made me unhappy. Why? Because I was sitting in front of her and became convinced that I had the biggest fucking head in the world.

2.). Drink in moderation. After intermission a woman who reeked of wine plopped down in the empty seat next to me. Each time she hiccupped, her rancid breath would waft into my nostrils. She stared at me and slurred, "Are you a ballerina?" When I smiled politely and said no, she yelled defensively, "Don't worry, I'm not a lesbian!" She also decided to yell "Whoooooo!" through the rest of the show. I'm not exactly sure why. Seriously--go easy on the wine, folks. It's not a football game.

I've done very little ballet-watching in my lifetime. I sat in the balcony of the Spokane Opera House for the Nutcracker in junior high. That space is so vacuous all sound is pretty much nothing but echo past the fifteenth row. I fell asleep during the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies. And a few years ago I caught a dress rehearsal of, I think, A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Pacific Northwest Ballet. I remember it being very cool, but we were in the nosebleed final rows at McCaw Hall and someone on a speaker would occasionally interrupt to tell a performer holding a flag to lift it a little more, which kind of diminishes the effect.

But I had a friend in town and after waltzing around with one of the dancers and another of the choreographers from the performance, it seemed like a good time to check it out. So we splurged on tickets to PNB's New Works. We weren't disappointed.

The whole thing was a kind of intense progression through the last couple centuries of dance. It started with a fairly traditional Strauss composition with Mark Morris choreographing an interesting interpretation. A new work (hence the title) followed by Kiyon Gaines set to music by a recent Julliard grad with what seemed to be an interesting penchant for taking Gershwin-style tunes and making them a little crazy. By the third we were solidly into Bernstein territory as men in ties flitted Girl Fridays across the stage to a Steve Reich piece. And finally, an atonal, electronic bit of mayhem on metal tables.

Not to oversimplify the experience, but the first word that comes to mind is fantastic. Just when I thought it was all lilting pirouettes, bam! People are spinning in crazy green costumes and jaunting on their heels. Who knew the ballet could be so interesting. If you only take your kids to one performance at Pacific Northwest, I'd skip the Nutcracker, lest your offspring fall asleep in the midst of Clara's dream and be in their late 20s by the time they give the medium another chance.

PNB dancer-choreographers Kiyon Gaines and Benjamin Millepied will be at Elliott Bay Books on Sunday to talk about the upcoming New Works series (Nov. 6-16 at McCaw Hall). SW dance critic Sandra Kurtz says you should go hear them talk before they dance:

"We're fascinated right now with how people do their jobs. From Dangerous Catch to This Old House, we like to know how things get done. Choreography is an odd kind of job, stealing inspiration from a wild variety of sources and translating it through the painstaking repetition of rehearsal, making the ephemeral out of sweat and shoe leather. Kiyon Gaines and Benjamin Millepied are both seasoned dancers who are in the early part of their careers as choreographers, learning how to tell people what to do rather than taking direction. Both have new works coming up in the next PNB program, and will be talking about them at the next edition of PNB's 'Conversation' series."

Elliott Bay Book Co., 101 S. Main St., 624-6600, www.elliottbaybook.com. Free. Sun., Nov. 2, 2 p.m.

Photo © Greg Gorman

Editor's Note: PNB's Twyla Tharp showcase continues through Sun. Oct 5. McCaw Hall: 301 Mercer St. (Seattle Center), 441-2424. $25-$155. Thurs.-Sat., 7:30 p.m.; Sun., Oct. 5, 1 p.m. Sandra Kurtz saw the show over the weekend, and here's her take:

All Tharp, and Then Some
By Sandra Kurtz

Forty-plus years ago, when Twyla Tharp first began to choreograph, the dance world was arranged in some pretty orderly boxes. Ballet was based on the classical heritage descended from the Renaissance, modern dance was an intensely personal and expressive form created by a series of inspiring gurus and performed by companies of acolytes, folk dance was a mildly theatricalized version of traditional forms, and jazz dance combined stylized movement with vernacular music. Today almost all those categories are exploded, and Tharp has been at the center of the blast. She’s combined styles and genres, layered profound meaning and eccentric behaviors, dressed austere patterns in designer costumes and brought an astonishing intelligence to the most sensual of art forms.

In a feat of editor's stupidity I managed to insert a misleading final sentence into Sandi Kurtz's PNB review in this week's issue. I suggested that "Perhaps if someone choreographs a ballet to John Philip Sousa..." then the trombones in the PNB orchestra pit would have a little more fun. In fact, as Sandi pointed out to me after the story was already sent to the printer, George Balanchinehas choreographed a piece to Sousa called Stars and Stripes and it's been in the PNB repertory for years. I've fixed it online. Sorry Sandi.

Who says the JOA is a bad thing? Until 2016, at least, we can look forward to such distinct and competitive coverage of the local arts scene from the Times and P-I. From today's weekend arts preview sections, first the Times' "NWTicket" section:

And here's the P-I's "What's Happening" guide:

Nice work, fellas. Way to keep your brands separate.

Mind you, we have nothing against the Mark Morris Dance Group. We just hate its costumer and photographer. As my SW colleague Erika Hobart and I were debating what image to use for our May 14 Weekly Wire item on the Morris company's 25th anniversary revival of his landmark "L’Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato" at the Paramount, our reaction was...blech! In Hobart's words, "Those costumes are just awful! And the photos are so cheesy." Usually it's hard to take a bad dance photo, but yikes. So we ran a different image--not that we loved it--in a less prominent position. Which you can see and read after the jump.

Noelani Pantastico

By Sandra Kurtz

At the beginning of rehearsals for their new production of �Rom�o et Juliette,� the artistic staff at Pacific Northwest Ballet had five women working on the role of Juliette. It�s typical in that business to teach a part to an upcoming dancer without the expectation that they will perform it this time around, but as the process continued, the cast was winnowed and winnowed again, until they were left with only two Juliettes for the two week run -- Carla K�rbes and Noelani Pantastico.

Then, two weeks ago, K�rbes was out as well, with a back injury, and Pantastico was looking at all eight performances, a substantial challenge in an emotionally draining work. Tickets to the production were selling well, and so the company added a ninth performance (matinee on Saturday, February 9) when it looked like Bernice Coppieters, the woman who originated the role for the Ballet of Monte Carlo, would be available to perform. But now the bad news -- Coppieters was unable to get a visa extension for the performance (she�s going to be dancing in the US with the Monte Carlo company beginning February 10, but could not get permission to start a day early), and so Pantastico will be adding that show to her calendar. No word on whether the company was laying in an additional case of energy drinks.

Pacific Northwest Ballet principal dancer Noelani Pantastico and soloist Lucien Postlewaite in Jean-Christophe Maillot�s Romeo et Juliette. Image � Angela Sterling

See these two? That's Romeo et Juliette, and you'll see them together for what feels like a combined total of 20 minutes in the Pacific Northwest Ballet's new version, which debuted last night. PNB is the first American company to perform Jean-Christophe Maillot's production of the famous tale. It's joined with a raptuous score by Sergei Prokofiev, composed in 1938.

"Maillot takes risks I admire," writes PNB director Peter Boal in the program. These include fewer characters, simple costuming, and a very minimalist set design that uses lighting to sculpt the shapes of rooms and moods. Also, there are many changes to the narrative that will confuse those who enter only with knowledge of Shakespeare's version and not one of the "more than eighty" choreographic ballet versions over the years. (Seattle has most recently been familiar with Kent Stowell's version, which I haven't seen).

For these reasons I encourage you to read the synopsis before the ballet starts--little did I know how useful "The Nurse/Enter Juliet/Enter Lady Capulet" would have been. Although, I feel it shouldn't be that confusing to people who think they're familiar enough with the story to pick it up.

But about Friar Laurence: he acts as the fil-rouge, or "common thread/guide" throughout the ballet, appearing onstage with his "two acolytes" to instigate and herald major turning points in the plot. Class clowns that my companion and I were though, again having not read the synopsis, we thought for a while that he was Shakespeare himself. Who is this dude, and where are our doomed lovers? I must say though, the dancer playing the Friar, Olivier Wevers, was so gorgeous to look at--his body like a bold, shapeshifting shadow on the stark backdrops--you didn't really mind waiting. Wevers is best known as a leading man but was surprisingly powerful and enthralling in this character part.

Also getting an unusual amount of stage time were Juliet's Nurse (Jodie Thomas), Tybalt (Casey Herd, looking like glam-rocker Dave Navarro in an armpit-less black getup), and the shameless, lusty innuendoes of Tybalt's and Lady Capulet (Louise Nadeau)'s interactions. I won't burst your bubble with the major plot changes, though a puppet show in Act II might. Arguably the best (and certainly the most romantic) scene comes right before the first intermission, when Romeo (Lucien Postlewaite) arrives to woo Juliette (Noelani Pantastico) in private. Juliette is so spunky in this production, communicating a knowing womanliness from her first appearance, that you almost question her attraction to the seemingly less-mature Romeo. But the two dancers do a lot with the scenes they're given together to certify the characters' romance for the viewer. I recommend this ballet, which will inspire more conversation than tears, and should sufficiently arouse your Valentine this February. Beneath the balcony, the scene of flirtation and seduction ends on a near-orgasmic note, with Romeo worshipping Juliette's body, starting at her elegant feet.

Romeo et Juliette continues through February 10. http://pnb.org