‘Nutcracker’ Can Keep Us on Our Toes

Everyone knows “The Nutcracker” is a crowd pleaser at this time of year, but you may not know that it’s also a Trojan horse of a ballet -- an attractive thing you let in the door that, boom, turns out to have more power than you think. In its own glittering, toes-pointed fashion, it tells us (almost) everything we need to know.

Front and center in the process is Clara, a role model in ruffles. Clara? The cute little girl who spends most of the ballet tripping around in her nightgown? Ten-year-old girls devoted to the ballet are already nodding, but for the unenlightened, here’s how it goes.

From the party scene on, Clara teaches us valuable lessons -- starting with how to be diplomatic when you receive an odd Christmas gift. When her eccentric godfather gives her an ugly wooden doll with big teeth, she convinces him it’s just what she wanted. She’s open-minded as well; she starts thinking that the nutcracker is kind of cute. She displays admirable optimism and empathy, seeing the best in everything, aware that a dressed-up kitchen utensil needs appreciation too.

And who can’t learn from Clara when it comes to surviving a fractious family member at Christmas? As her bratty brother breaks her new toy and his friends make peaceful play impossible, Clara remains calm. She knows that having a good time is all about getting along with everyone -- and looking good in a party dress at the same time.

But Clara doesn’t think only of herself. She feels an obligation to check on her nutcracker doll at midnight, when the more popular toys have been known to taunt the geeky ones. And when she’s called into action, as a skirmish between toy soldiers and invading mice breaks out in her living room, she champions the underdog, her nutcracker-come-to-life. Designed for fun and the cracking of nuts, he’s clueless when it comes to self-defense.

And isn’t that a metaphor for so many of life’s battles? Just when you think all’s quiet on the living room front, someone starts a turf war, and a leader turns out to be hapless. Clara steps in and throws a shoe at the head of the Mouse King. Never underestimate the combat strategies of a determined adolescent girl. Especially one who’s been practicing her pirouettes.

Then comes the epic journey. Would any of us embark so swiftly on a dangerous trip -- in Clara’s case, one involving an interspecies relationship? In leaving town sans luggage with her newly evolved Nutcracker Prince (now, by the way, taking credit for the mouse battle victory), she demonstrates the kind of positive thinking the owners of Match.com must pray for.

Through fields of snow, with lines of circling dancers getting in the way, Clara perseveres. Soon enough she arrives in the Land of the Sweets. Ever the diplomat, Clara never complains, even when she’s seated where she’ll see only the backs of the dancing candy and foreign emissaries.

She doesn’t even point out that something called a Chinese dance is not, in fact, Chinese, that Chinese dancers don’t dart across the stage, index fingers aloft at each side of their heads. You can tell what’s going through her mind: Enjoy the moment. It’s the thought that counts. They dance beautifully, and I can always write a letter to The Times to clear things up.

Eventually, Clara considers relocating to the Land of the Sweets. She could dream forever and watch other people dance, but she can see that the Sugar Plum Fairy already has the best job there -- running everything. So when the sled shows up, Clara opts for reality. At home, she can grow up -- and keep setting a good example.

And when the dream ends? Clara, and the rest of us who went along for the ride, can never look at an ugly underdog doll (or person) quite the same way again. Who knows which one has action-hero potential, which one might lead us into new adventures and show us the world?

Of course, Clara isn’t the only mythic figure in “The Nutcracker.” There are others to admire: the plucky but doomed mice, the elegant and steely Sugar Plum Fairy and a few patient dancing toys that evidently get out of their boxes only once a year.

And you only have to look as far as backstage to be awed by the dedication, support and sacrifices of those who create the many “Nutcrackers” each year -- parents, volunteers and dance company artistic directors, not to mention the dancers striving to achieve ballet’s ideal forms by putting one pointed toe in front of the other, every day. They embody the noble goals of community and constancy, Christmas after Christmas.

So Clara is not just a fluffy ballet dancer, and “The Nutcracker” is not just another ballet. It’s a creative way to see whether we can dance through differences and agree on at least a few things: the worth of tact and bravery, sacrifice and reward. To the thrilling notes of Tchaikovsky, with the great and powerful Clara leading the way.