Company Chameleon’s funny and frightening study of the group psychology of men begins in a completely unexpected way – three dancers in pastel-blue tights performing a style of modern dance that went out of fashion years ago. The music is Bach, badly recorded, and just as I think I’ve got this show completely wrong, the stage is invaded by three guys in hoodies who jostle the trio into a change of clothes and a rapid update of style.
The details of this exchange are beautifully revealing – the mix of camaraderie and threat, the edgy competition over who gets to wear what clothes. And as the piece goes on to anatomise the power of the group, and the vulnerability of those excluded, Anthony Missen’s choreography rarely wavers from that same high standard.
Individuals “audition” to become part of the gang through an inventively humiliating series of rituals. All six bond together in rowdy, testosterone-leaking routines – headbanging and street dance, football chants and military drill. Some of the material is hilariously self-mocking – six stupid men eyeballing the audience with their hands stuffed down their pants. And if some of the more intimate and abstract dance sections in the middle of the piece are less sharply focused, the closing scenes are unforgettably good.
Here, the ever-implicit threat of violence surfaces as Lee Clayden (outstanding even within this excellent cast) surges on to the stage. Two dancers snarl around his feet like rabid Rottweilers, and in the ferocity of the ensuing trio, all three men seem consumed by blood lust, tearing each other apart. The ugliness of the “beast” has been unleashed and in the final scene, where Clayden tries to return himself to civilisation, dressing himself up in a smartly conventional suit, the look of baffled uncertainty on his face is haunting.
• 13 May, Dukes theatre, Lancaster. Box office: 01524 598 500. Then touring.
