The Nutcracker, Hippodrome, Birmingham <br/>The Cage, Queen Elizabeth Hall, London

Clara and co conjure a treat

God bless us every one, and bless Barry Wordsworth in particular. Tchaikovsky's music gives The Nutcracker its heart, and he and the Royal Ballet Sinfonia bring out a frosty sparkle in the overture, a thrill of magic in the transformation scenes.

The Birmingham Royal Ballet's production of this work is probably the most-loved in Britain. Created by Peter Wright, it still feels like a family celebration. It's highly lavish, with handsome designs and spectacular scenery changes.

Wright tinkers with the story, beefing up the role of the magician Drosselmeyer, making Clara a ballet student. The adapted storyline sometimes cuts against the music. Still, Wright's narrative has its own logic.

The opening party scene is particularly fine, with children, guests and Drosselmeyer's conjuring tricks all bright and animated. Marion Tait is marvellous as Clara's mother, absorbed in everything around her.

Carol-Anne Millar is an eager Clara. A quick, light dancer, with beautifully stretched feet, she scampers, wide-eyed, from marvel to marvel. As the Nutcracker-turned-Prince, Chi Cao dances with springy ease. His jumps are clean, his partnering tender.

When it comes to the grand pas de deux, Wright turns young Clara into her adult self a Sugar Plum Fairy in a tutu. Nao Sakuma is neat and elegant, but too doll-like: the music has a grandeur that this pretty performance misses.

BRB are happiest in the big dramatic scenes. The mouse battle is very dashing, with a splendidly piratical King Rat. The company are more cautious in the pure dance scenes. Even so, this performance has a confident sweep. It's a genuinely festive Nutcracker, affectionate and lively.

The Cage, a hip-hop retelling of Greek tragedy by Renegade Theatre, is The Bacchae without the Bacchae. Markus Michalowski and choreographer Lorca Renoux take elements of Euripides's play, acting them with a mix of b-boy dancing, acrobatics and film. For a story about ecstasy and order, it's alarmingly dry and unfocused.

This company is best known for Rumble, a retelling of Romeo and Juliet. Renegade's later shows have been smaller and duller, fiddling with digital technology and stereotyped characterisation. In The Cage, Michalowski and Renoux hint at acrobatic displays, but there isn't enough to distract you from the vagueness of their plotting and characterisation.

The cage of the title is a clear plastic box. Three men in suits move around inside it, held in by convention, while acrobatic satyrs prowl outside. Michalowski and Renoux can't decide how much Euripides they want. The basic conflict is there, but so are trailing ends of the old plot, in which King Pentheus refuses to acknowledge Dionysus.

The god is played by Rauf Yasit, who can reach a leg over his own back until his left foot is tucked neatly into his right armpit. This is clearly difficult, but not dramatically expressive.

We see Tobias Wenger's Pentheus in an on-screen monologue, mocking the idea that Dionysus is divine. The film clip brings in plot details that never reappear, and its sound quality is poor.

Technically, The Cage is often awkward. When Dionysus pours wine over a follower's head, he's barely in the spotlight: a turning point muffled by poor lighting.

Discovering wine, the caged men strip off their jackets to join Dionysus. Wenger, the strongest performer here, balances on the thin plastic wall. His colleagues retreat to a trampoline, where they bounce through somersaults.

The six dancers are all strong, but little is made of their skills. There's little abandon in those trampoline bounces: you can see what Renegade are trying to evoke, but it never quite happens. When Pentheus joins the other dancers, their number is hardly frenzied: they mooch about the stage in unison.

At the end, Pentheus crawls back into the box, returning to the cage to die. This might be striking, but The Cage has failed to dramatise the contrast between order and abandon.

'The Nutcracker' to 13 December (0870 730 1234)