Birmingham Royal Ballet, Sadler's Wells Theatre, London

Classic ballet, shame about the dancing...

Oh no, not another Swan Lake! It's a silent cry that wells up inside some of us, but actually it's not the ballet's fault that companies do it do death. Nor do Birmingham Royal Ballet count among those companies, since – their annual Nutcrack-ers apart – they favour the new or recent, as mirrored by their triple bill next week. So sparingly do they perform the 19th-century classics that their Swan Lake, produced by Peter Wright and Galina Samsova in 1981, hasn't been shown in London for 20 years.

There are Swan Lakes – like the Kirov's – so sublime that even a jaded critic can suddenly remember what all the fuss is about; and, sorry, but, BRB's isn't one of them. The Brummies may perform the historic mime with wonderful conviction (the Kirov has ditched it altogether); they may have restored the figure of Siegfried's friend Benno (the Kirov have banished him). But when it comes to the actual dancing you begin to think that either BRB should stop doing these tough, exposing classics, or do them more often to keep in better condition. The messy unison, the sketchy footwork and inelastic shapes came as a shock. The first night couple Andrew Murphy and Leticia Müller revealed they were not virtuosi.

Murphy's light, long lines made him an elegant Siegfried and he established a poignant rapport with Odette. Müller communicated an earth-bound sensuality at odds with the received chaste image of Odette so that she seemed more of an Odile all the way through; I liked her best as the latter. But the most effortless dancing, with turbo-powered jumps, came from Chi Cao's Benno.

We have long known that BRB are less Russian racehorses than sturdy Midland ponies. But perhaps they would have seemed less small-stepping and the swans more grandly impressive if Philip Prowse's sets had allowed more space.

Twenty years ago, Prowse's designs were reckoned to have contributed to the production's success and, it's true, the frowning, inky sets do have a monumental theatricality. The flamboyantly Gothic costumes, though, seem to be wearing the dancers, dwarfing them in voluminous heavy folds and startling hats, and clearly the Queen Mother's dress is a recycled double bedspread.

Black is the court's fashion colour, but that has a logical connection with the Wright-Samsova prologue depicting the funeral of Siegfried's father. That prologue supplies extra dramatic justification for the subsequent events, and narrative consistency is the production's trump card. Presenting the third-act national dancers as the retinues of each prospective brides makes sense, even if it pads the dancing out. But why does Rothbart die? Apparently from embarrassment, when the removal of his helmet reveals the baldie that he is.

'Swan Lake' to 10 September; Triple bill 13-15 September; 020-7863 8000