As I’ve said before, Sarasota Ballet Director Iain Webb is something of a genius when it comes to programming an evening of ballet. For his company, it’s usually a triple bill that starts with something traditional and classical; segues to something more meaty, abstract or otherwise thought-provoking; then concludes with something funny or charming or sweet, sending you home full and happy, as if you’ve had a quite satisfying three-course meal.

But this weekend’s “Life and Liberty” program at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall, which included just two ballets — David Bintley’s “Still Life at the Penguin Cafe” and George Balanchine’s “Stars and Stripes” — was a different animal. (And quite a lot of animals there were too, by the way.) In normal times, Webb would have opened with the Bintley piece which, with humor, pathos and poignancy, addresses human impact on the animal world; then sent the audience home on a high from the patriotic fervor and vibrant marching rhythms of Balanchine’s tribute to his adopted country.

But these are not normal times. And the fact that Webb switched the anticipated order made all the difference in a program that somehow captured the anxious dis-ease of this moment in our history — caught, as we are, between the enduring desire to defend, preserve and celebrate our nation, while watching the human impact on both our literal and figurative environments test its very survival.

So relevant did both ballets still seem, it’s difficult to believe one is 68 years old, the other 38. “Stars and Stripes,” first performed by the New York City Ballet in 1958, is Balanchine’s love letter to the country that took him in after he left his native Russia. It captures a post-war period when spirits and national pride were high and the nation was far more unified than it is today.

The rousing John Phillips Sousa score (familiar to anyone who ever played in a high school marching band); the flag-flourishing costumes and militaristic movement; and the plethora of virtuosic ballet benchmarks (leaps, kicks, turns in the air) make it engaging, even when it isn’t performed with the full-out gung-ho that’s prescribed. The Sarasota Ballet’s rendition started slow, gained momentum and finished — in front of an enormous, descending American flag backdrop — with the necessary gusto.

The problem with a ballet that has a huge cast (41 dancers!) and relies on unison movement and changing patterns is that if even one dancer is slightly out of line or timing, it shows. Friday night, the first of the ballet’s five movements (Balanchine labeled them “campaigns”), with Sierra Abelardo leading 12 female corps dancers in pink tutus with flag bearing tops, suffered from a few spacing and formation issues. The second, with Marijana Dominis at the forefront of another 12 women, (this time in blue tutus), came nearer to the uniformity required — not quite the Rockettes, but close.

But it was when the male troops appeared in the third “campaign” that the action stepped up a notch. Samuel Gest and his 12 compatriots, dressed in military uniforms with gold sashes, kept up a break-neck pace without breaking form, finishing with a half dozen double turns in the air in near-perfect unison.

In the form of traditional ballets in his native Russia, Balanchine devoted the fourth and fifth movements to a classical grand pas, with Ricardo Rhodes as “El Capitan” partnering resident guest principal (from the San Francisco Ballet) Misa Kuranaga as “Liberty Bell,” in the typical sequence of pas de deux/his solo/her solo/ and grand finale (with all regiments returning).

Though by ballet standards, both dancers would be considered “mature” — Rhodes has been with the company since 2007 and Kuranaga started her career as an apprentice with San Francisco in 2001 — they executed their demanding roles without noticeable fatigue, though their partnership connection wasn’t exactly electric.

The beginning of Bintley’s “Still LIfe” might have lured the audience into thinking they were in for another upbeat Webb conclusion as penguin waiters holding drink trays skip, bob and weave around dancers in ballgowns and tuxedos, sashaying to a peppy yet minimalist score of repetitive phrases by Simon Jeffes. What follows are a series of vignettes featuring a variety of endangered animals — from a Ginger Rogers-like Utah Longhorn Ram (Dominique Jenkins, partnered by Ricardo Graziano), to Humboldt’s Hog-nosed Skunk Flea (Pasha Levy) who cavorts with five English Morris dancers.

Utilizing a kind of reverse anthropomorphism, Bintley’s choreography is witty, clever and often amusing. Clad in overalls, Gus Payne’s Texas Longhorn Rat hops around as if at a hoedown, then wiggles uncontrollably as comfort eludes his intended hibernation. Ze Ellis as a Brazilian Woolly Monkey is loose and simian, cavorting to a samba rhythm with a couple of head-wrapped South American beauties. A different geographical scene falls into place on the backdrop to convey each creature’s habitat — an iceberg; a desert landscape of cactuses; a thick jungle.

By the way, did I mention that the costume design (by Hayden Griffin) includes face-covering animal heads worn by all the endangered species in the lineup? If you weren’t already impressed with the dancing — and it was overall quite commendable — just consider how much the dancers’ sight and breathing were probably impeded by that headgear.

About halfway through, the ballet takes a darker turn. As Jonah Glickman appears as the Southern Cape Zebra, in a fantastic black and white striped costume with long brushes in each hand, he’s surrounded by eight high-fashion women in zebra-striped haute couture and black stilettos, who vogue, strut and fan themselves, oblivious to the gun crack in the score that fells him.

A rainforest couple (Nathan Smith and Dominis) try to protect their child (a petite Zoe Breneman of the Sarasota Ballet School, who was as professional as the professionals) from an environment that instills fear and uncertainty. A contralto (Amy Jo Connours) adds a mournful wail to the score (wonderfully played by the Sarasota Orchestra under the baton of Jared Oaks) when it suddenly turns somber.

As a steady rain begins to fall against a grim backdrop, the animals remove their headgear and everyone begins crossing the stage in runs and leaps, waving their arms wildly as if in a panic. Eventually, no one remains but The Great Auk (Kennedy Falyn Cassada), a species which became extinct in the mid-19th century, who is left to gaze at a hazy scrim, behind which the other shadowy figures are seated on an ark. But is the ship headed for salvation or doom?

Bintley doesn’t hit you over the head with his message, but with extrapolation, it may be even more relevant today than when he conceived the ballet nearly 40 years ago. If we fail to address our impact — whether on animals, the environment, the climate or even our fellow human beings — our future looks ominous. It wasn’t the happy ending we’ve come to expect from a Webb program, but it sure fit the times.

Sarasota Ballet ‘Life and Liberty,’ featuring George Balanchine’s “Stars and Stripes” and David Bintley’s “Still Life at the Penguin Cafe.” Additional performances 2 and 7:30 p.m. March 28. $35-125. Van Wezel Performing Arts Center, 777 N. Tamiami Trail, Sarasota. sarasotaballet.org; 941-359-0099.