Dance review: Company Chordelia, Glasgow Cottiers

DRESSED in a blue velvet cocktail dress and clutching a bottle of champagne, Miranda stumbles out into the snow. Giggling but puzzled she surveys the landscape – where is she?

And on a more psychological level, who is she?

These are the questions both the eponymous heroine and the audience ponder during this fairly innocuous piece of dance theatre. Joined on stage by an otherworldly pierrot and a child (presumably her younger self) Miranda goes on a voyage of self-discovery. Sometimes she’s a grown woman, in full possession of her sexuality; other times she’s a child, tucked up under a blanket eating comfort food.

Company Chordelia is known for its accessibility, and Miranda doesn’t challenge that status. There’s nothing unduly taxing here, either choreographically or emotionally, despite the performers’ best efforts to communicate inner angst.

Janis Hart’s set steals the show: a soft white carpet absorbs all foot sound, a reflective moon and chandelier cast shimmers across the stage, and an armchair, single bed and baby grand piano give the narrative a home.

Kirsty Pollock puts her Rambert training to good use as the child, imbuing the role with a graceful innocence that slowly turns into something more troubling.

The duet between Kally Lloyd Jones’s Miranda and Pollock briefly takes the show to another level, but for the most part, Miranda is merely comfortable entertainment rather than the poignant thriller it set out to be.

Rating: ***