Michael Pink’s DRACULA, recently given its local premiere by the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre, might not have had Ben Stevenson’s glam, almost fairy tale approach to the classic vampire tale that the company has presented. This was a surprising jolt of a ballet, quick to startle, but with a touch of Vegas and decidedly dry British scraps of humor that poked through from time to time.                                   

What gave this version its bite was Pink’s character-driven approach. He filled the cast with recognizable people in keeping with the Victorian Era — a newspaper man, a flower seller, an opera singer and impresario, even a suffragette. I subsequently discovered that all the dancers were given scripts, each describing the dramatic intent behind the ballet steps. 

You might say that the entire cast was on the same page. And it made a difference.

As a result, the 20-year old production looked surprising trendy due to Pink’s expert staging, skillful use of time lapses and, from what I hear, meticulous attention to detail. It all began with a blackout and an ominous drum beat, which immediately put the audience in the mood. Then it moved to a sanatorium, where Jonathan Harker (Corey Bourbonniere), a young solicitor sent to Transylvania to settle Count Dracula’s affairs in English real estate, was having what amounted to PTSD nightmares. Wolves crawled over and under his sanatorium bed. And strange, folk-like figures appeared, apparently (we had to presume) coming from the accountant’s frightening experience at Count Dracula’s castle.

Why was this happening? Even though it was a bit of a puzzle at first, my interest was piqued…

Thus the audience was invited on a journey back in time, where Harker traveled to Transylvania (aided by antique maps, part of Lez Brotherton’s quite brilliant sets and costume design). There he was greeted by villagers. Unlike every other full-length ballet in the classical repertoire, however, they didn’t perform the usual perky, celebratory dance a la Pittsburgh’s Eastern European group, The Tamburitzans. Instead it featured a gutted wolf in a sacrifice to ward off the deaths that were permeating their lives. The villagers stooped and stomped in a nearly-crazed fashion before Dracula’s coachman took Harker to the castle.

There Dracula, clad in a floor-length red velvet coat, made his entrance. And what an entrance it was! Part voguing, with a slouchy and slow runway descent down a set of stairs, a slightly fey Colin McCaslin turned to the audience and locked in a steady gaze designed for hypnotic effect.

Perfect.

Pink introduced three alluring Brides, obviously waiting to seduce Harkin on a bizarrely-angled bed. For all their beauteous wafting (although one slyly emerged through the mattress), they were only concerned with a little blood-letting. Dracula appeared, though, and lured them away with a blood-soaked “live offering,” which they gleefully pursued. What an exit!

That set the stage for another, more serious seduction, a highly physical duet between the Count and Harkin that hinted of homoeroticism. Using an almost acrobatic approach to the partnering, it was easy to see why the other Dracula, PBT principal Lucius Kirst, was out with an arm injury. But it was tremendously effective.

Act two was used as a partial respite, where the all-white Winter Garden at the Grand Hotel boasted a gala celebration. That allowed for assorted character studies more in the ballet tradition, including a delightfully virtuosic Bell Boy (Yoshiaki Nakano/Masahiro Haneji) and an engaging Holiday Couple (Amanda Morgan/JoAnna Schmidt and Kurtis Sprowls).

But Harker wasn’t fooled. He entered with his faithful wife, Mina (Grace Rookstool/Hannah Carter). When a storm began brewing, he became distraught. He knew what was coming…and so did we. However, the focus was not on him, but a young woman named Lucy (Diana Yohe/Tommie Lin O’Hanlon). Full of life, she cavorted with her husband Arthur (William Moore) and good friend Quincy (Masahiro Haneji/Moore). Then Dracula made his fateful entrance down the versatile spiral staircase used in all three acts. The spotlight focused on her, turning Lucy into Myrtha replica from “Giselle.” He descended, again ever so slowly, took control of her and led her up the staircase where we knew what would happen. But the spotlight, a part of David Grill’s hugely effective lighting design, never left Lucy. Dracula operated in the shadows, as he well should.

With the third act, Pink took on more cinematic references, but with his own tasty, mouth-watering twist. He formed a Star Wars-like band of heroes (Harker, Van Helsing [Jack Hawn], Quincy and Arthur) and gave Mina a brooding solo while she worried about their safety. But this also gave Pink the opportunity to feature Renfield (Joseph Parr), the spider-eating patient, more fully. In Stevenson’s Dracula, Renfield was more like a jester, executing exuberant, bravura ballet jumps. Parr usually exhibits beautiful lines, but immersed himself here into a suitable psychotic state, hunched and troubled and twitchy, but more relevant to the story. Besides, he got to perform a duet with Mina while encased in a straitjacket.

Things finally come to a head at the Carfax Abbey, where the Undead appeared, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller, which predated Pink’s ballet by 14 years. But soon it was back to the action/adventure movie style with a dynamic fight sequence.

The musical glue that held it all together, creating the welcome suspense and spine-tingling dramatic touches, came from composer Philip Feeney’s cinematic score. There was an aura of Carmina Burana, maybe a dash of Rite of Spring to be savored. Did I hear a smooch in the music at one point? A little Twilight Zone? And the occasional use of mist seemed to signal Dracula’s arrival, much like the sharky rhythms in Jaws.

Pink has been called a choreographer for the 21st century. Judging from the audiences’ reactions, this 1992 ballet has a timelessness that, despite its familiar story, keeps you on the edge of your seat. No doubt, this DRACULA is bloody maaah-velous.