There’s some more musings on late-stage capitalism to be found in the Queen Elizabeth Hall foyer where dancers present smatterings of (La)Horde works familiar to London audiences: “Weather is Sweet,” “Room with a View,” and “Low Rider,” where two masked girlies in lime green Juicy Couture tracksuits arch their backs and spread their legs on a remote controlled hydraulic car. I’m more than happy to see so much gyrating in a high art context, but there is an eyeroll-inducing irksomeness about (La)Horde’s flashy stoicism, particularly when their work simply lacks depth. 

Dancers wander around like NPCs while attached to a wall of smartphones, they show ass cleavage in low-rise jeans, they graffiti vagueries onto the floor only for it to be wiped away, they hump each other like Chihuahuas. The collective’s interest is ‘the post-internet age of endless consumption,’ but it rarely gets explored in a meaningful way beyond implying that phones are bad and ass cleavage is hot—which it is. This obsession with the material lacks a human pull. Even genuinely interesting work like “Hop(e)storm,” which blends the Lindy hop with techno, is simply not enough to give some substance to all the style on show.

Audience members run about the place with maps in their hands as if navigating their way to the ride with the shortest wait time. If your favourite part of Disneyland is the orienteering, then “We Should Have Never Walked on the Moon” is the must-see hit of the season. It’s reminiscent of a festival too. Often you’re conscious of trying to make it to certain performances on time, or at least before it's impossible to get a good view. The novelty of roaming around wears off, and by the end of hour two out of three the attendance at most venues has dipped.