Dance: The right to exist

Gary Clarke Company
Detention
choreography Gary Clarke
narrator Lewey Hellewell
dancers Alexandra Bierlaire, Gavin Coward, Alex Gosmore, Mayowa Ogunnaike, Imogen Wright
community Jonathan Blake, Anna Brown, Bruce Currie, SuMay Hwang, Mike Jackson
music & sound Torben Sylvest
set & costumes Ryan Dawson Laight
The Place, London • 3-7.Jun.25 + national tour ★★★

Taking on a pivotal moment in UK queer history, this show carries an important kick as it traces events from the 1980s that are still being felt today. It's beautifully choreographed and danced, cleverly incorporating both professional performers and members of the local LGBT+ community, along with skilfully filmed sequences and terrific stagecraft. The dancing is also expressive and impressive, although the literal approach to storytelling weighs things down, oddly watering down several sequences due to the excessive words.

This is the story of Section 28, a 1988 British law that prohibited local authorities from "promoting homosexuality", specifically in schools. Brought in under Margaret Thatcher's government in an effort to crush the gay rights movement, it silenced people at a time when discourse was badly needed due to the Aids epidemic. The show depicts this beautifully, as five dancers and five members of the community create a variety of scenes on-stage, while narrator Lewey Hellewell adopts a range of attitudes to propel the action forward, sometimes sassy and sometimes sinister.

The central tone is one of a group of silenced people standing strong, clinging together amid the storm. Repeating iconography features protest banners, the Aids quilt and most notably the LGBT+ switchboard, one of the only lifelines for queer people during these years. Dazzling performances include gorgeously muscly duets and a number of impassioned solos, plus larger group numbers that ring loudly with ideas from both sides of the issue. One bawdy sequence creates the feeling of a raucous night in a boozy pub. And the most intensely powerful piece depicts an astonishing cycle of school bullying.

Section 28 was finally repealed in 2003, and the show goes on to note how its damage is still being felt throughout society, especially with recent surges in violence and outspoken bigotry. This is an urgent, powerful depiction of this history, and it's vital to remember the truth of these events. So it perhaps doesn't matter that the script here feels overly pointed and descriptive; saying so much limits the audience's ability to engage. Much more important are the staggering moments in this show that express how these events made people feel at the time, while also vividly revealing the emotions that continue to resonate.

For info: DETENTION TOUR > 

portraits by Joe Armitage • 4.Jun.25

Stage: What is love anyway

Cupid's Revenge
created and performed by Tom Roden, Pete Shenton
music Gareth Ellis Williams
designer Will Holt
National tour • 9.Sep-13.Nov.21

Taking on the massive theme of mythical love, Tom Roden and Pete Shenton carry the audience on a remarkably engaging odyssey over an hour of riotous comedy, physicality and emotion. It's an extraordinary show, which feels simple and almost haphazard in the way it's put together. But in the end it reveals its complexities in a final act that's properly powerful.

Roden and Shenton have been working together for more than 20 years. They put this show  together before the pandemic, then used lockdown to hone it into their most ambitious performance yet. At the top, they challenge the audience to find the funny things, and then they keep us laughing fairly nonstop with their evolving banter, going back and forth to push each other verbally and physically in a series of lists that inventively circle around back on each other using a witty mix of words, dance, sound and imagery.

The central idea is that the concept of love has been watered down by advertisers who use it to sell us things. And yet we still know the difference between this and loving a friend, relative or romantic partner. To cut through this, Roden and Shenton start wide, chatting about the nature of being and the different ways we interact with society and each other. It feels silly and random, but gets increasingly personal as it goes along, repeating key words and movements to provoke a wide range of thoughts about human connections. The way it comes together in the end is breathtaking.

It's a simple stage, a large square of artificial turf onto which it seems like a brightly lit heart has crashed alongside two deck chairs that are referred to as being on a pier in Llandudno. Echoing phrases and choreography fills this space, including a repeating slow-motion scene in which Cupid fires an arrow across the stage. The show is precisely choreographed while also allowing for some moments of loose improv. This allows for some timely gags and rudely personal insults that affectionately nod at the duo's decades of working together.

Roden and Shenton take a lovely non-political approach to issues that are usually partisan, as their patter encompasses religion, government, sexuality and ethnicity without any judgement. And their loose, often deliberately ridiculous performances beautifully capture the joys of childishness and of connecting with another person. This is a knowing look at what makes us human, and it plays out like a refreshing tonic in a divided, cynical world.

For tour information: NEW ART CLUB >

The Place, London • 14.Oct.21