Trawling for a subject that isn't The Nutcracker or Cinderella, David Nixon has come up with Beauty and the Beast, a ballet he made for his previous company, BalletMet Columbus, and now brings (with some revisions) to Northern Ballet Theatre. Audiences are lapping it up. There is a finite number of fairy tales; it's not every day you can find a story with big mythic themes. Other choreographers (John Cranko, Peter Darrell) have headed for the same title, as well as Jean Cocteau, who made it into a famous film. Yet it contains a number of pitfalls. How do you convey the story's more complicated twists? And how, crucially, do you deal with the transformation from handsome prince to terrifying beast and back again?

Actually, Nixon presents the plot deftly. A voice (Patricia Doyle) fills in occasionally, accompanied by projected film of a book, its pages magically turning by themselves. Used only sparingly, this comes across not as a cop-out, but as a neat device, cleverly plunging you back into the atmosphere of old-fashioned childhood storytelling. The transformations are accomplished via a revolving mirror-door that allows Jonathan Ollivier's prince to alternate with Hironao Takahashi's Beast.

Ollivier is gorgeous enough to set any feminine heart fluttering, tall, dark and dressed in glowing, elegant white. Takahashi's costume makes him suitably misshapen and repellent, but he dances a treat, with strong, clear passages of classical virtuosity. They are overseen by the Bonne Fée (Ginnie Ray) and the Fée Misérable (Pippa Moore), whose airborne battle, suspended in spark-spouting flying machines, is one of the production's several satisfying effects. Also good are the moments of vividly articulated humour: the horrible goblins pursuing Beauty's equally horrible sisters; the animated cushions (an opportunity for NBT's junior associates) that become Beauty's bed.

Charlotte Talbot is the company's leading dramatic dancer, but the role of Beauty has limited interest. Her two sisters (Hannah Bateman and Natalie Leftwich) have the advantage of wickedness, although their choreography is crudely caricatural, where some subtlety would have been more convincing. Nixon's choreography in general looks more routine than inspired – a weakness that becomes especially evident in the big classical wedding finale. He is, on this showing, a man for production values rather than steps.

If the score sounds like a patchwork, it's because it is one, mixing mostly French composers and played by the NBT Orchestra. Poulenc's Organ Concerto provides a nicely gloomy atmosphere for the darkly deranged shenanigans of the Beast's castle. Carla Risch Chaffin's sets are the production's weakest component. We are far from Cocteau's visual enchantment, but, still, NBT have a ballet with strong potential on their hands.

To 29 Dec (0113-222 6222); Theatre Royal, Nottingham (0115-989 5555) 4–8 March