BETRAYAL and abuse is a core element in Victor Hugo's novel. This new adaptation by Northern Ballet Theatre tries to keep faith with this, and with the tragic outcome that refuses to kowtow to sentiment and wishful fantasy. There is no happy-ever-after ending. Sadly, there are also less than happy aspects to the production as a whole. At present there's a curious distance between the attempted spectacle and the intimate narrative, as if the crowd scenes and all the

(over-cluttered) hubbub weren't the real context for the situations that overtake Quasimodo, Esmeralda, and the other main characters. I found myself thinking back to an earlier, successful, NBT production, Romeo and Juliet: there the background of court and market relates very immediately to the central tragedy - as yet this Paris lacks the cohesion and drama of that Verona.

I could wish, too, that there was less exposition to cram into the first of the three acts. Lez Brotherston's dark and brooding buttresses frame several locations as hovels truck to and fro, beams fly in - and out - and the leading characters are almost swept away in tidal waves of uninspiring mob-movement. Acts two and three are more streamlined, but even so there's precious little space (or useful choreography) for the dancers to develop rounded characters. That said, Luc Jacobs brings dignity as well as vulnerability to Quasimodo, Omar Gordon is a creepy, reptilian Archdeacon, while Amaya Iglesias's Esmeralda has a certain naivety, despite her skimpy costume and sinuous dancing. Like Philip Feeney's score - which mixes medieval chanson, religious music, and every bit of brass including the kitchen sink's taps - this ballet tries to shoehorn in far too much irrelevant detail at the cost

of the inner strengths that are there. A lot less would be a lot more, the dancers deserve room to show their talents.