The work as a response to the crash is compelling. There are times where we pity these men in suits who brought the world to its knees as they become the subjects of cruel hazing rituals. At other times their swaggering and boyish mannerisms are nauseating, especially when they gather around the unconscious body of one of their counterparts to pose for photos. The dancers, through their ability to shift between submissive and dominating archetypes at the drop of a hat never feel like caricatures. They are more alien, more uncanny. Their movement vocabulary is one of extremes. Spitting and slapping, greedy yanking, limp bodies twirling. Often someone is being subjugated by another, pulled or tossed aside like a sack of meat.
The final third of the work, set to a recording of the sometimes-weeping, sometimes-screeching strings of Shostakovich, reveals the creative duo’s choreographic chops with pure movement, reminiscent of figures like Bausch and Brown. But certain limits are exposed too, there is a lot of repetition and moments where the references feel a touch too evident. While the layout of the evening is episodic, this does not distil any of the impact of “A Good Man is Hard to Find.” The emerging Bullyache still have room to stretch and sprawl, but they seem to be making all the right moves. This is the punkier, political edge that dance so badly needs.
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