It seems churlish to fuss about the current production of Les Ballets Jazz de Montréal — after all, the company offers an undeniably sunny experience in a week that can use the warmth. An undemanding, breezy program, its enjoyable double bill poses none of the Big Issues, existing solely as a celebration of movement and pattern. But it does exhibit the perils of the visiting choreographer. Despite its willingness under the artistic director, Louis Robitaille, to ignore the word “jazz” altogether, the company still seems in the process of widening its scope. Its attempt at Brazilian ease, for instance, looks forced: Backs remain ramrod straight despite some swiveling hips. It may yet be a few years before the company finds the stylistic flexibility its “international contemporary” repertory will require.

This Joyce season, the company offers “Mapa,” commissioned by Grupo Corpo’s Rodrigo Pederneiras, and “Les Chambres des Jacques,” a work created for Les Ballets Jazz de Montréal by fellow Canadian Aszure Barton. While Mr. Pederneiras, a longtime pro, can clearly make entertaining works that feel instantly coherent, it’s Ms. Barton’s work that exploits the company to its utmost. When her work falters, she risks losing the audience altogether; she hasn’t yet got the sense of how to rivet our interest to the work as a whole. But that roughness also makes her creation exciting — it may not have the sheen of Mr. Pederneiras’s work, but its jagged structure pushes the company onto higher peaks.

After a spectacular beginning — a line of dancers undulating in front of Fernando Velloso’s Escher-esque backdrop — “Mapa” quickly becomes a lighthearted smorgasbord of Mr. Pederneiras’s Brazilian-inspired modern movement. Dancers mimic capoeira kicks to the head and tightly held tango positions, trade partners, and smile appreciatively at one another. Named for and set to the music of Marco Antonio Pena Araujo (M.A.P.A.), “Mapa” moves briskly and never drags, faithfully echoing the musical structure that progresses from flutes to strings to urgent drums. It can’t quite escape a hint of mustiness, however, perhaps because of Anne-Marie Veevaete’s costumes, which recall the 1970s, with flared orange pants ending just above jazz shoes. Only the elegant Francine Liboiron has the feet to make the look work — everyone else appears awkwardly sliced off at the ankle.

Fans of the Grupo Corpo aesthetic, all released arms and liquid spinal columns, will find “Mapa” a somewhat diluted version of Mr. Pederneiras’s usual sex-on-wheels approach. Sadly for us, company star Katherine Cowie is the least at home in sultry Río: Her icy, athletic carriage freezes sensuality in its tracks. The company’s greatest strength lies in its electricity; dancers seem happiest when leaping and shooting energy through pointed toes. The final section capitalizes on the dancers’ peppiness, repeating a springy, flung leg instead of the oozing, slithery gestures of the first half. It catapults us out of the piece on a high note, eclipsing the work’s early lack of unison and uneven attempts at relaxation.

After intermission, however, we see what can happen when a choreographer ignores genre, instead tailoring work to the bodies in front of her. The collaborative Ms. Barton borrows ideas directly from the company, so that her “Chambres” feels completely inhabited by the dancers who cocreated it. Starting with a goofy lip-syncing jam by James Gregg, the piece then wanders through a series of disconnected numbers. Women shriek with laughter; men invert themselves and try to burrow into the floor; mini-jamborees turn into spasms of amusement or hysteria.

Instead of gliding transitions found in “Mapa,” here music (whether Vivaldi or a Quebecois folk song or rollicking klezmer) jolts us from scene to scene. Even time seems herky-jerky: the women have just rolled out of a 19th-century cathouse in their corsets and frilly petticoats, while the men run the gamut from modern suit-jackets to ’30s newsboy caps. The usual gender balance feels upside down — Ms. Barton lets women fade into supporting roles while showcasing the men (particularly Muppet-faced guest artist Ian Robinson) and their stomping, jigging footwork. It’s an exhilarating, showoffy rush of activity, which occasionally stops just to watch Sophie-Estel Fernandez extend a lazy, ear-grazing leg.

Ms. Barton’s inventiveness doesn’t remain at a consistently high level. The groupwide partnering sections look half-hearted next to the exuberant solos. But as a portrait of a company, a group of dancers who exult in the abilities of their bodies, “Les Chambres des Jacques” has the frankness and delight of an onstage cast party. Instead of trying to seem loose and sexy (as in “Mapa”), dancers candidly relax into their favorite activity. The tone feels honest, and the glee is infectious.

Until April 22 (175 Eighth Ave. at 19th Street, 212-691-9740).