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The Royal Winnipeg Ballet is the first company in the world to be granted permission by the notorious Moulin Rouge cabaret to use the name. And ooh la la,

its reputation is safe in the hands of this great Canadian company.

The Royal Theatre performance Tuesday night was a delight and the remaining two shows are sold out.

In this version of the familiar tale, heroine Nathalie, danced by a willowy and lyrical Vanessa Lawson, is a laundress who becomes a cabaret entertainer and falls for a struggling painter called Matthew, performed by a handsome and graceful Gael Lambiotte on Tuesday night.

Also present is Toulouse-Lautrec, danced by a virile Yosuke Mino, and cabaret owner Zidler, performed by Eric Nipp, whose leaps and energy seem to increase as the evening progresses.

More elegant than lewd, more provocative than rude, the ballet captures the bohemian flavour and belle époque glamour of the period through its evocative bridge, the Parisian scrim scenes, sparkling Eiffel Tower and of course, the red windmill.

The story of their young love and the tyrant Zidler’s jealous interference is touchingly told amid stupendous lifts and swirling, ruffled skirts.

Memorable scenes include a stunning pas de deux where Lawson and Lambiotte dance on a bridge in front of the Eiffel Tower to the music of Debussy’s Clair de Lune. The choreography is simple and clean and the pair gorgeously romantic.

I could have done with a little less dancing with easels, but in one segue choreographer Jordan Morris displays his comic turn as the hero is transformed from street garb into evening dress, and is literally dropped into his paints. Lautrec and a team of bobbing tailors undress him down to his boxers and have him back in a tuxedo in about 11⁄2 minutes. It’s brilliant choreography, and hilarious, as they spin him on a modeling dais.

Another show stopper is Nathalie’s introduction to the cabaret’s denizens and her slutty co-workers. Jo-Ann Sundermeier is brilliant as La Goulue during a rehearsal in the smoky underground with its forbidden atmosphere and look of a Lautrec painting. The two are wonderfully competitive in a can-can cat fight.

And then the can-can chorus line entertains with long skirts, frilly underthings, high kicks accompanied by cymbal clashes, hops in a circle with legs in the air and risqué splits — all to the sound of squeals, screams and shrieks.

The female dancers rise en point despite the added weight of heavy costumes and of tight corsets, while the men spin like cyclones.

Morris, who bought us the hit show Peter Pan last year, has combined the music of Chopin and Debussy, with the tango tempos of Piazzola and Quarteto Gelato, and Offenbach and Strauss for a spectacular recreation of the bohemian, sensual world of this beau monde.

Note: Due to deadline considerations, the reviewer left before the concert concluded.