Let's be clear: The new "Romeo and Juliet" that Moscow's storied Bolshoi Ballet brought to Cal Performances on Wednesday night is not bad because it trades pointe shoes and tutus for tuxedos and negligees. It is not bloodless and unaffecting because it showcases a 228-year-old company of finely trained classicists -- scandal! -- doing the bump and grind.

And it was not the worst idea to tap noted British theater director Declan Donnellan to inject some contemporary daring into a troupe long isolated by the Iron Curtain and stagnated by a repertory too heavy on former leader Yuri Grigorovich's works. (This "R&J" was also not the idea of 35-year- old Artistic Director Alexei Ratmansky, who took the helm this year after a series of administrative coups.)

If your idea of Russian ballet runs more to 19th century splendor, take heart in the three-act "Raymonda" opening this evening at Zellerbach Hall. In the meantime, it was possible to appreciate the directness Donnellan attempted in his 21st century approach while ruing the results.

His "Romeo and Juliet" is streamlined, the cast of characters trimmed -- so long, Benvolio; sayonara, nurse. Nicholas Ormerod's set of sliding blocks is stark and functional. The Prokofiev score -- richly rendered by the Bolshoi Orchestra -- is rearranged and packed into two efficient acts, and its frequently lewd bombast suits Donnellan's super-sexualized, sinister vision. Instead of two warring houses, our lovers are held apart by a hip- thrusting, ever-present mob. This isn't so much a society as a collection of societal forces. Forget that vague societal forces aren't dramatically compelling -- that's the least of this production's problems.

Donnellan has been matched with a choreographer too inexperienced to do the job. Radu Poklitaru, a former Bolshoi dancer, aims for the fluency and frankness of European dance theater but comes up short. Think of the cartoonishness of Sweden's Mats Ek mixed with the limb-flailing aggression of France's Angelin Preljocaj -- but sans the structural sophistication.

Whether Romeo is creeping his fingers over Juliet when they meet at the ball or doing the worm across the floor, whether Juliet is riding the crowd with her legs splayed or shuddering orgasmically while upside down, the issue is not propriety. The steps are simply babble, because they show little meaningful arrangement. If movement is the language of dance, this is Shakespeare translated into preschool diction.

Full credit goes to the company for dancing with conviction. Maria Alexandrova, a rising young principal, and corps member Denis Savin eked all the connection they could out of choreography that more often had them staring into the void than at each other. Good-natured Yuri Klevtsov was especially well cast as Mercutio, and the ensemble of 30 looked eager to try postmodernism on for size.

The gala audience gave it a warm reception. "It's so modern!" many said. And perhaps the very attempt at innovation should be cheered. If the imported sensibility of this "Romeo and Juliet" gives the company confidence to find innovation from within, it will have served a purpose long after it has rightfully faded from mind.