★★★★

“Caruso is a meticulous performer; each step choreographed with a purpose”

“I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember being tied up, being unable to speak. I remember how much I hurt trying to escape”.

Maria Caruso’s pre-recorded voice swoops above the stage while below, her lithe figure expresses the sentiment behind those words, alone on a vast stage. It is a moment of bravery that almost eclipses our appreciation of her unique choreography.

“I gave my soul and every ounce of energy to get away. And I was free. Free to become the person I am today… to let the past go and forget what happened. To find the light inside myself”

Although we never learn the detail – what happened to her? – her solo dance performance tells a powerful story. One that is personal to her but that we can interpret in whichever way we feel. The same was said of her previous show, Metamorphosis, of which Incarnation is, if not a sequel, an extension. Like the former, Caruso describes it as “an in-depth retelling of the intimate stories with no words”. Except that there are quite a lot of words in this show. Phrases litter the prologue to the performance as though torn out of a therapist’s thesaurus. We are invited to ‘see’ her story through ‘every fibre of her being’. There are definite moments when we feel we do not need really to be told this, but to let her movement, and Ryan Onestak’s evocative music score unfurl the narrative; along with our own imaginations.

“There is a powerful defiance that fuels the dance routines”

For it is visually quite stunning. It can be argued that Theatre Royal Drury Lane is too vast for this intimate piece, yet Caruso manages to fill the space with her personality. Simplicity is the key, with a minimal set reminiscent of the late Peter Brook’s ‘Empty Space’ school of thought. A lone clothes rail is a lonely backdrop, from which she plucks dresses that each represent a turning point in her life. Downstage, a writing desk is the only prop, at which she writes letters. In fact, the show is a love letter, a begging letter. She writes letters of intent, of pain, of revelation. To whom? A lover? A confidant? She waits for a reply forlornly. When it eventually arrives during the final moments, some of us might have seen its message coming.

But it is the journey that fascinates. Caruso is a meticulous performer; each step choreographed with a purpose. Her talents stretch beyond dance and there is something filmic about the show – the detail, facial expressions and small gestures speak as loudly as the body rolls and arches while her eye is firmly trained on the camera lens. It is a touch distracting and distancing, though, and at times we feel we are the studio audience for a future stream.

Innovative and emotive, we are left in no doubt that this is autobiographical. How much dramatic licence is used is open to question yet there is no denying the courageous honesty as Caruso figuratively and almost literally bares herself. Yet beyond the high-flown metaphors there is something calculated and controlled that belies the tortured soul that is being exorcised.

Nevertheless, we are uplifted. Something profound is taking place. Simultaneously hard to explain but simple in its truth. Caruso is a striking dancer and choreographer, image-maker, storyteller and thought-provoker. There is a powerful defiance that fuels the dance routines. Triumphant and optimistic, even if a touch over-dramatic and indulgent. Sometimes the emotion doesn’t ring true, and the suffering is at odds with the self-adulation; but we are more than willing to be drawn into the conceit. It is ultimately quite beautiful to watch.

ONE SMALL STEP at the Charing Cross Theatre

★★

“Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles”

Set in the not-too-distant future, Takuya Kato’s “One Small Step” depicts a society where colonising the moon has become a practical reality. The scenario throws up many questions, some of which are touched upon in this short two-hander from Japan, but the focus of the story is very much rooted in present day, down-to-earth problems within the confines of a conventional marriage. The premise is a fascinating one, but ultimately it doesn’t really go anywhere. It’s all very well setting your sights on the moon, but you need to figure out the launchpad first.

Takashi (Mark Takeshi Ota) and Narumi (Susan Momoko Hingley) are a married couple working for a major company that is establishing a city on the moon. They share, with a touching yet naïve idealism, a wide-eyed enthusiasm at being part of humanity’s ‘fresh start’. Perhaps it’s because their own relationship needs a fresh start, as they spend the next hour bickering inconclusively. The mundane swiftly progresses to the central dilemma of the narrative. Narumi is pregnant, which puts her involvement in the forthcoming moon-shot in jeopardy. Cue the tried-and-tested, quasi-intellectual debates about abortion, the rights of women (and men), the right to life, corporate attitudes to maternity, careerism.

Narumi cannot seem to make up her mind about anything as Hingley plays tug-of-war with her character. We never really know whether she intends to keep her baby or not, but unfortunately, we cease to care. Little wonder then that Ota’s Takashi ends up in a whirl of schoolyard frustration. The discussions they repeat are pretty puerile given the subject matter. As the couple orbit around each other we expect them to gradually get closer, but there is little chemistry between the two and the inward spiralling of the script is claustrophobic. Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles. At one point a robotic floor cleaner is seen surreptitiously scuttling around; presumably to sweep up dialogue that has fallen flat.

Somewhere in there is a gem of a story. It is the stuff of dreams, quite literally. Some may argue that the dream is closer than we think, but whatever way you look at it the textural landscape is a goldmine. “One Small Step” even has a cow on the moon (I wonder if it jumped over it first), which bizarrely mirrors the elephant in the room for the play’s protagonists. There are moments of humour in Kato’s script, which the actors do successfully seize upon. We want more of this – the lightness of touch lends more weight to the message, and we pay more attention.

A live camera feed projects the actors in close-up onto overhead screens. There is perhaps a reason for this beyond the bandwagon that Kato (who also directs) has jumped on. But, like the other choices made, it is lost in translation. We should be getting lost in the story but, as much as the pair’s fine performance draws us in, we are kept outside of their inner circle. Which is a shame as the issues are universal.

The moon belongs to nobody (despite the American flag up there). For now, at least, it belongs to anybody. The dreams, stories, ambitions and desires it has inspired belong to everybody. “One Small Step” has the potential to latch onto those visions, embracing the human problems inherent in mankind’s grand objectives. Yet it remains a small step, and needs more thrust to achieve lift off.

Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

INCARNATION

★★★★

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

INCARNATION at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane

★★★★

“Caruso is a meticulous performer; each step choreographed with a purpose”

“There is a powerful defiance that fuels the dance routines”

INCARNATION at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane

Reviewed on 2nd October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Previously reviewed at this venue:

PIPPIN IN CONCERT | ★★★★★ | April 2024

YOUR LIE IN APRIL | ★★★★ | April 2024

WILD ABOUT YOU – A NEW MUSICAL IN CONCERT | ★★★ | March 2024

HANDEL’S MESSIAH: THE LIVE EXPERIENCE | ★★★ | December 2022

INCARNATION

INCARNATION

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ONE SMALL STEP

★★

Charing Cross Theatre

ONE SMALL STEP at the Charing Cross Theatre

★★

“Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles”