★★★★★

“the chemistry between the dancers is electrifying, the aftershocks of which crackle through our veins”

Writer, composer, director, choreographer and producer, Romain Rachline Borgeaud is the force behind RB Dance Company. Formed in 2018, the aim was to mix tap dancing with urban jazz, bringing the former to a ‘darker, more grounded, heavier place’. Borgeaud fell in love with Gene Kelly when he was a young child, citing him as the reason he started dancing. His passion for movement and music drove him to take the art form and fearlessly experiment, but at the same time paying tribute to traditional musical theatre. “Stories” was born, parts of its early inception making their way into the finals of France Has Got Talent (“La France a un Incroyable Talent”).

The mix of traditional tap with modern street jazz, urban music and rap has produced a simply stunning and sensational fusion. Thrown into the mix are production values that tip the scales. A synchronicity with lighting, sound, percussion and music stirs in its precision as well as its emotional punch. “STORIES – was born from a gathering – that of a pack driven by a persistent, vibrating, visceral need to move” writes Borgeaud in the slightly esoteric programme notes for the show. But while the performers are moving, we are motionless, rapt and frozen in our seats almost afraid to blink.

The show is not just a dance piece. Yet it isn’t musical theatre. It is cinematic in its scope but intimate in its language. The story follows Icarus – a young actor – under the oppressive control of his director. He’s desperate to escape, but unable to. There are obvious parallels with the Greek myth of Icarus, with the director being a Minos figure. The narrative follows an equally labyrinthian arc that is sometimes hard to unravel, but the beauty is that the interpretation belongs to us. There are references to Faust too, but also a strong link to the feelgood, golden age of the nineteen-fifties and the likes of ‘Guys and Dolls’. All coated with a fine glossy veneer of Film Noir.

It is all brilliantly told and despite being written, directed, choreographed and scored by the one man, there is a clear-cut collaborative feel. Loosely split into four segments: ‘Run’, ‘Stop’, ‘Fall’ and ‘Rise’, it is seamless throughout. Without pause, the coordination never misses a beat or steps out of line. Alex Hardellet’s lighting is an essential part of the choreography – the virtuosity of a concert pianist is required to operate the cues at the desk! Federica Mugnai’s constantly changing set designs are as intricately woven into the staging, at times flowing to the rhythm like big-budget CGI transitions. The trust between performers and creatives is an unbreakable bond. But moreover, the chemistry between the dancers is electrifying, the aftershocks of which crackle through our veins.

Tap dance as you have never seen before, brought high-kicking right into the twenty-first century. “Stories” is cross generational – modern but steeped in traditional virtuosity. It has its own vocabulary, yet there are no words. Instead, the emotional fragments of the story are swept up into a breathtaking music and dance spectacle. After seventy-five minutes we are quite breathless but would gladly continue watching for another seventy-five. Unmissable. In short, ‘incroyable’.

1984 at Cambridge Arts Theatre

★★★★

“As he twitches and screams, the audience responds with a petrified silence at the horror. It is a deserving accolade for Quartley’s stunning performance”

Marking seventy-five years since the first publication of George Orwell’s sensational dystopian novel, Ryan Craig newly adapts the work for the stage in this production directed by Lindsay Posner.

On entering the theatre, a huge screen at the rear of the stage is projecting images of members of the audience as they take their seats. Initially I am unsure whether the coverage is live or recorded until I am picked out on screen scribbling down these very notes. This is not a playful kiss-cam but something much more sinister: Big Brother is watching you. And if we are in any doubt of this at all the telescreen is in the shape of a giant eye (Justin Nardella designer).

Winston Smith (Mark Quartley) works in the Ministry of Truth where he abets the totalitarian state’s control of the past by rewriting historical records and airbrushing former heroes into insignificance. Dressed in the official uniform of blue overalls and black boots, he already looks worn-out. And he has a secret… despite living under the constant scrutiny of telescreens, spies and informers, he has purchased a vintage journal in which he is writing down seditious thoughts. This is brilliantly portrayed in retrospect, behind gauze at the rear of the stage, almost as a dream sequence.

Winston catches the eye of co-worker Julia (Eleanor Wyld) who proudly wears the red sash, somewhat ironically we will discover, of a member of the anti-sex league (and, therefore, almost certainly not to be trusted, says Parsons). They begin an affair in which their illicit trysts are rare moments of colour in a production in which all else is in different shades of grey. A beautiful projected backdrop of the sun’s rays peeping through into green woodland has an unreal quality about it which emphasises the fantastical nature of their impossible relationship. Julia’s naivete is summed up with her line, “They can’t stop me loving you”, because, of course, they can.

It’s a shock to come back after the interval for Act II. The backdrop is now a huge steel wall, the face of Big Brother faintly etched upon it. Parsons (David Birrell) is lying on the floor of his prison cell, his clothes soiled, his body disabled, his mind broken. It’s a fine performance from Birrell and a brilliant transformation; Parsons’ earlier joy and ebullience replaced with fear and desperation.

Winston’s interrogation is one of the most gruesome scenes I have ever seen on stage. O’Brien (Keith Allen) interrogates with a driving patience, so confident that he will win however long it takes and his suppressed brutality is chilling. Live aerial shots of Winston’s torture are projected onto the back screen as his body is electrocuted again and again. As he twitches and screams, the audience responds with a petrified silence at the horror. It is a deserving accolade for Quartley’s stunning performance.

But there is a limit to how much we can bear and Winston facing up to his ultimate fear in Room 101 is performed in a total blackout. O’Brien’s audio description of the terrors within is almost drowned out by the sounds of Winston’s screams and, despite the blackout, the scene is close to unbearable.

As well as the actors on stage, there are recorded elements from other named characters shown only on screen and the technical aspects of this production are of high importance. With so much going on, both on stage and on the telescreen and with recorded files as well as live camera action, it is sometimes hard to see where to focus the attention.

The necessary abridgment of the text means the love affair between Julia and Winston doesn’t entirely convince, nor the ease with which they commit to betraying themselves to O’Brien. But the production as a whole and Mark Quartley’s performance especially will live long in the memory. As the state continually rewrites the dictionary, removing all unnecessary words from usage, I am only left to say that this production is double-plus-good.

STORIES – THE TAP DANCE SENSATION at the Peacock Theatre

★★★★★

“the chemistry between the dancers is electrifying, the aftershocks of which crackle through our veins”

STORIES – THE TAP DANCE SENSATION at the Peacock Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Aline Gérard

Previously reviewed at Sadler’s Wells venues:

Stories

Stories

1984 at Cambridge Arts Theatre

★★★★

“As he twitches and screams, the audience responds with a petrified silence at the horror. It is a deserving accolade for Quartley’s stunning performance”

1984 at Cambridge Arts Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 22nd October 2024

by Phillip Money

Photography by Simon Annand

Previously reviewed at this venue:

1984

1984

JOIN US