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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Entertainment
Lyndsey Winship

Dystopian Dream review – climbing the walls with Nitin Sawhney

Not enough to be scratched at under the surface … Sébastien Ramirez and Honji Wang in Dystopian Dream.
Not enough to be scratched at under the surface … Sébastien Ramirez and Honji Wang in Dystopian Dream. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian

The themes of mortality and loss in Nitin Sawhney’s 2015 album Dystopian Dream, inspired by the death of his father, would seem ripe to be expanded theatrically. The dancers charged with doing it, choreographic duo Sébastien Ramirez and Honji Wang, come out of the French B-boy scene. They’ve worked with Madonna, no less, and their last piece performed in London saw them dancing on bungee wires to impressive effect. Add to that live vocals from Eva Stone, a singer of fragile power; a cool set, with a long white stairway to heaven and a giant slope the dancers slide down; plus atmospheric projections and aerial wires, and expectations are high. But it turns out none of these elements is strong enough to carry the show.

Sawhney’s soundtrack of pained but pretty melodies over electro-chill loops conjures up a lonely corner of the early hours, with lyrical nods to demons, sorrow and fear. It offers moods rather than stories, which Ramirez and Wang struggle to amplify – perhaps there’s not enough to be scratched at under the surface.

A diverting watch … Honji Wang and Sébastien Ramirez in Dystopian Dream.
A diverting watch … Honji Wang and Sébastien Ramirez in Dystopian Dream. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian

Ramirez appears first as a masked figure of death (with said mask very stylishly designed by Hussein Chalayan), literally climbing the walls. Wang arrives moving in a scuttling, cartoonish, stop-motion language. Some of the opening choreography reeks of jittery anxiety, stilted staccato giving way to push-pull slurps of motion between their magnetised bodies. But the intensity wanes. Singer Stone is effectively sewn into the choreography, Wang finds some interesting flamenco-like physicalities and Ramirez swings from wires and tangles with Nick Hillel’s projections, clinging on as the floor cracks beneath his feet or drowning in a gush of oily black liquid. It’s clever, but ultimately such gimmicks become distracting.

Dystopian Dream is a diverting watch but the choreography feels disappointingly small for the immensity of the subject. It’s a production that is somehow light in its darkness, skirting over emotions but never sinking a knife into their heart.

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