Ballet is starting to feel a lot like Broadway. Not in the sense of showgirls and hoofers. The issue, rather, is that this season the most interesting works were revivals. That includes the American Ballet Theatre presentation of Sir Frederick Ashton’s “Sylvia” and Michel Fokine’s “Petrouchka,” as well as the Suzanne Farrell Ballet production of George Balanchine’s “Don Quixote” at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.

In all three cases, I found myself riveted by these ballets. The stories didn’t leave me thinking of my grocery list. The divertissements didn’t divert me into thinking about who had called my cell phone while it was turned off. And it makes me wonder: Why are these ballets so engaging, and why don’t we have more?

Choreographers seem to take a lot of the blame when this question comes up. And there is much lamenting on the subject of “where is the next Balanchine?” But the blame cannot fall squarely on choreographers, mainly because the root of the problem is showing up across the creative arts. In ballet, television, film, and on Broadway, a good story is hard to find.

Dance differs from the rest of those forms because a story is not a necessity. But when there is a narrative involved, it has to be compelling and clear. It has to have something to say. And that’s exactly what made the three revivals this season so absorbing.

“Petrouchka” is ultimately a comment on the importance of love and the soul. Our dear, thinking puppet Petrouchka wants to understand his world, and, not least of all, win the heart of the ballerina puppet. By contrast, the Moor puppet is fascinated by a coconut. He does nothing and risks nothing, yet somehow, he gets the girl. Petrouchka reaches for something greater, but he perishes instead.

“Petrouchka,” created in 1911, is a compact story that packs a wallop. And it started with the music. Stravinsky created the score as its own composition after finishing “The Firebird.” The piece was conceived as a contest between a puppet (the piano) and the orchestra. Stravinsky titled the music “Petrouchka” after “the immortal and unhappy hero of every fair.” So already the music has a raison d’etre. Upon hearing the concept, Diaghilev decided to produce a ballet on the theme – then Fokine made the ballet, which is a short, gripping drama.

Ashton’s “Sylvia” is not a ballet that necessarily searches for truth, but the story unfolds so well that at times I felt like I was watching a silent opera. The role of Sylvia – a nymph who gets captured, rescued, and falls in love – demands that the ballerina act and communicate what’s going on. On the night I saw it, Michele Wiles showed superb leadership in telling the story.

There are two reasons for how well “Sylvia” worked. First, Ashton created it as a vehicle for Margot Fonteyn. The choreography for the ballerina was designed around her style, and there’s a lot of it. She’s onstage for most of the ballet, and as a result, the audience gets accustomed to her presence. She’s our guide for the evening. Second, this ballet went through considerable revisions. Ashton created it in 1952, but wanted certain changes to be made to simplify the plot. When restaging it last year, the Royal Ballet’s Christopher Newton cut and reorganized matters so that the ballet would flow better, based on conversations he had had with Ashton. He relied on memory and a black-and-white video tape for choreography, but stuck as close as possible to Ashton’s intents. In the process of refinishing the ballet, Mr. Newton made it shine.

The situation was similar with Balanchine’s “Don Quixote.” Created in 1965, it was last performed 25 years ago. Suzanne Farrell, to whom Balanchine bequeathed the ballet, restaged it this year for her company, with the help of the National Ballet of Canada.

Like “Sylvia,” this version of “Don Q” was reconstructed by memory and from footage on a grainy videotape.

Though critics were not overly fond of Balanchine’s “Don Q” when it was first presented, this restaging has a lot going for it. It is now a streamlined, deeply emotional work. The Don – who is the central figure in this version- is rapturously in love. Reality is lost to him. The ballet weaves in religion in a way that would scare most contemporary theatrical companies. And Dulcinea, as the pretty ideal and the peasant girl, is kind and caring, rather than the rambunctious virtuoso of the Petipa version. The ballet also contains ensemble dances that are so well-patterned, they could make decent ballets on their own, if excerpted.

These parts make the ballet undeniably strong, but what makes it compelling is why it was created. The work was part of the public courtship that Balanchine, then 61, directed toward Ms. Farrell, then 19. They worked on the ballet together, and danced the leading roles of the Don and Dulcinea. He was fascinated by her; she became his muse, but not his lover. The ballet might not have been perfect the first time around, but it has an emotional core that makes it touchingly sincere. Who opens up – in public – like that these days?

While these three ballets were successful revivals, there are old ballets that get dusted off and still lack storytelling or emotional power. Last year’s ABT revival and restaging of “Raymonda” is pretty much a beauty pageant, the last 20 minutes of which are numbingly redundant. And there are new ballets that contain some heft. Like his taste or not, Boris Eifman traffics in putting darkness and emotion on stage, as with his “Musagete” and “Anna Karenina.” (Though the former is not a new story.)

I want to stay far away from curmudgeonly territory, but this season seems to send a clear message that the meaty stuff – rich emotion, serious stories, all the glorious highs and vulnerable lows – is better than the froth. It is certainly true for opera, where you know you’ll leave with your heart on the floor. And it is absolutely true for ballet’s greatest hits: “Giselle” and “Swan Lake.”

By no means am I advocating a season of tear-jerkers and tragedies. The high spirits of “Sylvia” are marvelous, and I hope they bring it back again next year. But I find “Romeo and Juliet” marvelous, too, because I reliably wind up in floods of tears at the end. Ballets on that order are what we need more of – from the dance makers of today.