Metro 11.7.02
There are no posters and
no directions to point you towards Dance Bear Dance. But arm yourself with
an A to Z and stiffen the resolve to brave a Bethnal Green back passage and
you’ll treat yourself to an intriguing slice of site specific theatre.
This is one of those experiences –show isn’t quite the right word
– which make it incumbent upon the reviewer not to give too much away.
Surprise is the key element as the unsuspecting audience become delegates
at a paranoid political conference the minute they are whisked through the
door.
It’s funny how a badge with a flag on it can transform your personality;
I was the USA and at once became big, brash and overbearing. While the woman
next to me threw her Iraq down in disgust, presumably fearing she’d
succumb to the stereotype by growing a bushy moustache and throwing people
into jail.
But I digress. As Dance Bear Dance casts its merry spell (it’s very
funny, in a disconcerting ‘what the hell is going on sort of way), you’re
whisked from casino to cathedral in a spooky trip to the edge of the apocalypse
that full of inventive style and surreal madness. Only a mis-fire of a finale
(being trapped in a locked room full of dry ice is no joke) deprives it of
a full five stars.
Keith Watson