Edinburgh Fringe dance reviews: The Show For Young Men | Taiwan Season: Palingenesis | Crawler

The Show for Young Me at Edinburgh Fringe | Andrew Perry

The Show For Young Men 

Assembly @ Dance Base (Venue 22), until 24 August

★★★★

The sound of football punditry emanates from a radio, and the stage is covered in metal sheets and plastic tubing. We’re on a building site and the scene is set for a display of masculinity and strength. Large structures are pushed and pulled, heavy objects thrown and banter shared - the only difference here is one of the ‘workmen’ is 10 years old. 

A beautiful two-hander made specifically, but not exclusively, for male audiences The Show For Young Men strikes just the right balance of rough-and-tumble humour and emotional depth.

Performed by dancer Robbie Synge and Alfie (a talented young boy who took part in pre-show workshops in his school and was then asked to join the cast), the piece starts on a light footing. Synge attempts to work, Alfie is committed to silliness and play, resulting in fun interactions that send children in the audience into peals of laughter. 

When a dark cloud descends over Robbie, manifested first in anger, then depression, Alfie is unsure what to do. But his very presence has a slowly transformative effect on the older man, through friendship and being reminded to look for the joy in life.

As adults, we know it’s not that simple, of course, but the important conversations this show will elicit from its young male audience are a step in the right direction.

Taiwan Season: Palingenesis 

Assembly @ Dance Base (Venue 22), until 25 August

★★★★

A response to what Taiwanese dance company D_Antidote terms ‘the growing distance between individuals in contemporary society’, Palingenesis takes connection to the opposite extreme. Three male performers, dressed only in flesh-coloured pants and face masks, are fused together. Limbs merge and torsos meld before our eyes until we struggle to discern where one man ends and another begins.

At times, they look almost arachnid, or like alien beings, but these bodies are most definitely human, and their intimacy (entirely non-sexual) feels odd in our space-aware world. Climbing over each other with seeming effortlessness, they lift and carry their brethren. 

Then, like creatures from the primordial swamp, they rise and separate, free to move on their own but retaining a closeness through synchronised movement. Choreographer Po-Hsiang Chuang set the three dancers an enormous challenge, demanding precision timing and muscular energy but also a gentle sensitivity - all three of which they deliver.

For 40 intense minutes, their bodies may look otherworldly but their endeavour is most certainly real. Pulling off their masks as they take a bow, sweat-soaked and smiling, we see these alien creatures for the men they are, and it’s a beautiful moment. 

Crawler

Assembly @ Dance Base (Venue 22), until 11 August

★★★★

For a young dancer, Dublin-based Jessie Thompson is remarkably sure of herself and her direction of travel. Her intimate, almost ritualistic work Crawler takes elements of streetdance, contemporary dance, experimental movement and music-driven improvisation and sets them boldly before us.

At first, Thompson makes us wait with a slow start that’s almost meditative. In the corner, sits musician Jason McNamara drumsticks poised, waiting for his moment to strike (we’ve been handed earplugs on the way in, so we know it’s coming).

When Thompson’s movement cranks up a notch, we see what her body is really capable of. The symbiotic relationship between her and McNamara bears fruit of different shapes and flavours, as she bends up and down repeatedly in a frantic strobe light or writhes on the floor.

These moments won’t be for everyone, but it’s hard to deny the urgency and assuredness of her movement. More accessible, perhaps, are the two sections when Thompson pulls on a pair of trainers and inhabits the loose, fluid street dance choreography that fits her body like a glove. 

It's Not My Body Chapter 3.5 / This Is

Assembly @ Dance Base (Venue 22), until 11 August

★★★

Hong Kong-based dance artists Wong Tan-ki and Dick Wong may share the same homeland, but this is where the similarity ends. Their solos, It’s Not My Body Chapter 3.5 and This Is could not be more different.

First, we find Tan-ki laying on the floor, his body taut and muscular after years of dance training. Developed and revised over the past eight years, his piece is an exercise in precision movement and flexibility. Legs stretched wide, strong arms reaching out, it’s clear Tan-k’s body is in peak condition, but his mind is troubled.

Dancers are usually their own worst critic, and here he pummels himself in an act of self-punishment. It’s Not My Body Chapter 3.5 is clearly a difficult work to perform, for many reasons, but it’s a wonder to behold.

Dick Wong’s thought-provoking work, This Is, on the other hand demands far less of the 60-something dancer - physically at least. Emotionally, he lays himself bare, and while this solo will divide audiences with its unashamedly post-modern dance aesthetic, if you can sit with it, it pays dividends.

Long pauses, almost soporific in the dim light, give way to intermittent phrases, each starting with the words ‘This is . . . ‘ It’s hard to tell how autobiographical the work is, but the lines ‘This is . . . loneliness’ and ‘This is . . . emptiness’ reach out and touch us gently in the darkness.