Admit it, seeing a male ballet dancer, or danseur (in French), may make you snicker a bit.
That's right, watching men in tights parade around a stage, twirling and leaping, might make some people who aren't familiar with ballet fall off their chairs laughing.

But think about how they can sustain their bodies in the air for seconds at a time. Remember the muscle strength it takes to propel a grown man gracefully off the ground or the intense discipline it takes to defy falling out of a dizzying series of chaînés turns.

Not as funny, huh?

Now, twitching hips, grand mal-like seizure gestures, jazz hands and heel-leads may not  typically be associated with classical ballet, but Boise-based Trey McIntyre Project (TMP) isn't your run-of-the-mill ballet.

McIntyre, the artistic director, makes ballet fun and edgy without compromising the intense discipline requisite for the classical form, like executing a proper fouetté or pas de bourrée.

"[McIntyre] knows you know those basics," said TMP's general manager and danseur Jean Michael Schert in the Q-and-A that followed the performance. "He'll say 'It's a grand jeté and I want it to have this sort of tempo, release, feeling.' And you work it out with your partner."

Most of the time, the danseurs are more impressive than the ballerinas.

McIntyre makes each viewer interpret a unique narrative that emerges from the dancers' movements. Every motion in the ballet has a motive and a meaning that varies for each audience member.

The 5-year-old company's performance at USC's Bovard Auditorium included three distinct acts. "Leatherwing Bat," a series performed to music by Peter, Paul and Mary; "(serious)," a three-person ballet/love triangle to music by Henry Cowell; and "A Day In The Life," a Washington Ballet-commissioned piece to Beatles songs.

Act I: Leatherwing Bat

Leatherwing Bat tells a family's story that hinges on the son, into whom Brett Perry flawlessly breathes innocence with each childlike smile, head shake or impulsive spasm. Schert, who opens the number and whose mile-long legs extend practically offstage, lifts Perry literally and figuratively throughout the piece.

The two stunningly perform with the agility and ease blinking an eye would require--though the literal routine doesn't always convey literal meaning. The final dance, to "Puff the Magic Dragon," builds and tears down emotions, leaving the audience nostalgic and with an even greater sense of loss.

Act II: (serious)

"(serious) is a big conversation," said Chanel DaSilva in the Q-and-A following the performance. "We're exchanging energy all the time."

The dancers narrate through movements and facial expressions. No words are uttered, not even in Cowell's somber instrumental music. If read as the immediate chapter following Perry's Leatherwing Bat performance, (serious) is his rite of passage from boyhood to manhood.

Jason Hartley joins DaSilva and Perry, his hard work apparent when we see sweat streaming off his body during the pirouettes in his solo. The sexual tension in (serious) is best shown when Perry and DaSilva mirror each other's movements and in one pas de deux section DaSilva lies on top of Perry, opening her legs before they roll, intertwined and in synch. One guess at what that's supposed to mean.

The trio enacts the ever-familiar love triangle by slapping their hearts, reaching for one another or excluding a danseur. The scantly synchronized movements during this modern romantic ballet intensify the heartache the dancers showed when they beat their hearts. And if that doesn't illustrate the piece's gravity, the grey slacks, white button-down shirts and leather belts the three wear do. Those aren't exactly typical ballet costumes.

Act III: A Day in the Life

"A Day In The Life," the third act, stops the narrative. The nine-person company dances to "Mother Nature's Son," "Blackbird," "Wild Honey Pie" and "Julia" among other songs and is the only dance that uses pointe shoes.

The number begins with the company in a huddle, each dancer holding on to those on either side before Bartley breaks away. They break formation after his first solo and the dance becomes light and fun. It's ballet, but it isn't, because it incorporates the rhythms and steps ranging from a psychedelic modern genre to animalistic tribal dancing. As in his other dances, McIntyre translates the music's every note into a corresponding movement so the sounds envelop the dancers, dictating their every motion.

McIntyre choreographed "Julia" in honor of one of the dancer's sick mother. Schert said the dance conveys "honest emotion" that is "authentic to the music you're listening to." Throughout the dance, the emotional pain and inability to control it is visible on the dancers' faces.

The dancers are providing a "unique and personal experience so it can be personal for the viewer," said Schert, adding that "There's no dramatic interpretation if we the dancers are doing something completely authentic."

McIntyre wants you to walk, or dance, in someone else's shoes during his work, and that walk is supposed to be personal.

"The emotional narrative is different for everybody," Schert said.

But while everyone may react differently to that narrative, experiencing it at all may be worthwhile. After all, tough times call for a little escapism.