Gong, Royal Opera House, London

Get it on, bang a gong

At last, the Royal Ballet has jumped on Mark Morris's enticing bandwagon, making it the fourth British company to do so. Gong, which opens the new season, doesn't have the sublimity of Morris's three big dance productions for English National Opera, but will surely prove more durable than his pieces for London Contemporary Dance or the Royal Opera. It is colourful, tuneful and – for this company – packed with unusual dance.

Gong was created last year for American Ballet Theatre. The music, which is always fundamental to a Morris ballet, is Colin McPhee's Tabuh-Tabuhan, a toccata for orchestra and two pianos composed in 1936 under the inspiration of Balinese gamelan. It could do with more inspired conducting, like the rest of the programme, but the score is unusual, attractive and rewarding; lively in rhythm, rich in texture.

Another big plus, which becomes apparent the moment the curtain rises, is Isaac Mizrahi's costume designs – a bold range of vivid colours based on red, yellow and green. All of the cast (10 women, five men) wear gold earrings and anklets; the men have gold belts, too, over their shirts and tights. The solo women are in wide tutus with tights of matching cololurs, while the other skirts are cut off to reveal a geometrical array of ruffles. Seen against a plain backdrop, usually red but briefly turning green, these clothes, plus some unfamiliar hairstyles among the women, lend the dancers a fascinating new look – you would hardly recognise some of them at first glance.

I am almost tempted to dub the choreography "Mock Morris", because it includes so many odd twists, straddled steps and precipitate angles; but that would be unfair to the originality and fun of his dances.

The floor patterns are varied: lines forward or across, circlings, one dancer set against a small group, more entrances and exits than you can imagine. If there is any specific Balinese input other than from the music, it doesn't show or matter; basically, this is simply ballet given a distinctive adaptation and exotic flavour.

The men, drawn from soloist level (Messrs Cervera, Coppen, Harvey, Martin and Watson), are given a lot of demanding entries, which they carry off with dash. Among the women, Marianella Nuñez, Darcey Bussell and Alina Cojocaru are prominently featured, with Jane Burn also being notable. But this is, above all, an ensemble piece, and the company as a whole looks good in it.

The premiere is given between two of this year's other new productions. Credit where its due: the unlamented Ross Stretton devised the bill and it's the jolliest he's invented. I would have chosen a different running order, putting Christopher Wheeldon's Tryst in the middle for maximum contrast, but that and Mats Ek's Carmen (with Guillem dead sexy in the title role, and Zenaida Yanowsky and Jonathan Cope both on top form) provide first-rate, individual choreography, while Jean-Marc Puissant and Marie-Louise Ekman maintain the evening's high standard of design.

But hurry; there are only seven performances, followed by months of stolid, full-evening works.

By John Percival

To 8 November (020-7304 4000)