Fringe dance and physical theatre reviews: Les Echos de la Rue and Sab’r | Flesh | Peregrinations + more

Les Echos De La Rue | Dance Base

Les Echos de la Rue and Sab’r ★★★★

Dance Base (Venue 22) until 16 August

The world of hip hop has evolved so much in recent decades, it’s hard to imagine its sole residence was ever the street, rather than in theatres. That said, the genre retains an earthiness which is more than evident in this arresting double-bill programmed by Belgian urban arts festival, Detours.

In Sab’r (a spiritual Arabic word for patience and endurance), solo dancer Silham Ennajjary shares her inner processes through the expressive street dance style of Krump. With just a floor rug for company, she moves with a magnetic energy, her pain conveyed through desperate, flexing hands.

You can sense her almost bodily frustration, wrapped in a hard-won ability to hold it in check. Hair whipping back and forth, Ennajjary gazes up into the light, and some kind of peace finally seems to arrive.

By contrast, Les Echos de la Rue is a busy group piece filling the room with action. It truly is, as the name translates, the echo of the streets.

Boxes cover the floor, maneuvered into all manner of shapes and imagined obstacles. Starting with two tiny skateboards gliding across the stage, two dancers then push their fingers inside miniature trainers, dancing top rock beneath the glow of a torch light.

There’s a story unfolding here that’s not always easy to grasp, but to a certain degree you can find your way through it. Footage of street riots is projected onto the walls, one dancer roars silently inside a dinosaur mask, and an atmosphere of past trauma fills the air. Societal issues, such as the inherent difficulties of being in transit, and the need for collaboration and friendship, take us into the heart of urban living.

Then, setting the wordless narrative aside, the five dancers fling themselves into a joyful bout of freestyle breakdancing, serving up a volley of impressive windmills and freezes. Kelly Apter

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Flesh ★★★★

ZOO Southside (Venue 82) until 16 August

Watching someone in a VR headset experience a virtual reality version of Titanic is certainly not the most bizarre element of this intense yet deeply thoughtful non-verbal theatre piece from Still Life.

The hour is split into four parts, each story stands alone with no direct connection, linked only by their exploration of humanity, touch, high emotion, and a level of absurdity.

It moves from a hospital room, where strict hygiene rules forbid direct physical contact, to a 70s living room celebration, a VR game experience, and a family feud at a wake. While looking at our craving for human connection in a world of fake and virtual elements, it blends fantasy, the surreal, and the real.

Four actors take on various roles across the scenes, including a plastic-surgery-obsessed man and a bored, likely underpaid, VR game attendant. Clear, intentional movements throughout create an easy-to-follow narrative. Very little is said or expressed verbally, yet so much is felt, including raw emotion which sits alongside laugh-out-loud moments that land effortlessly, especially in the characters' interactions with one another.

Whilst navigating the importance of touch, connection, and what makes us human, the intensity doesn’t waver. Loud music transitions punctuate the scene changes, with a curtain of see-through slits letting us peek behind before we're dropped into the next setting. Although there's at least a minute between scenes, clever set design choices transform the space quickly, pulling us straight into what's next.

Each standalone story has its own pacing and arc, and all are equally compelling. Their length feels right, and any disappointment at a scene ending is soon lost as the next one begins.

Created and directed by Sophie Linsmaux and Aurélio Mergola, these separate pieces are successful on their own and together, they create an hour that's enjoyable, disturbing, and embraces strangeness in a multitude of ways. Suzanne O’Brien

Peregrinations ★★★

Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 30 August

Folded sheets of paper flap in the wind, wing-like in their search for safe landing. Clutched in the hands of a talented seven-strong ensemble, members of New York’s Dutch Kills Theater Company, the paper takes on myriad qualities. At times, it’s simply correspondence; official documents refusing or allowing safe passage into the US.

Then it shape-shifts into metaphors, capturing the relentless hoops immigrants are forced to jump through.

The passion, compassion and dispassion displayed by the performers feels authentic, and grown from the fertile soil of research and lived experience. While the masks they slip on, cleverly depicting a range of facial features, give both the victims and perpetrators a universal anonymity.

When three people attempt to occupy the same chair, we recognise the fight for a comfortable space to live. When the chair is gently placed on its side, affording ample room for all three to sit, it exemplifies the need for equity in a self-centred world.

There’s also some innovative staging, puppetry and lighting that keeps Peregrinations highly engaging throughout. Where the show loses a little of its lustre, however, is in narrative clarity. The vibrant, wordless storytelling is crystal clear in some scenes, challenging to decipher in others. Kelly Apter

READ MORE: Dance Base’s artistic director Tony Mills on taking hip hop seriously

Only Bones – Daniel Nodder ★★★

Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 30 August

While the title suggests Daniel Nodder is only using his bones, in truth a large white t-shirt and a single light bulb share equal billing. The mileage he can get out of these two seemingly innocuous items is remarkable, though.

Disappearing inside the stretched white material, his face pressed up against the light, Nodder morphs from one bizarre creature into another. Polished fingernails become teeth, an elbow becomes a malfunctioning cantilever, and his jelly-like hands take on more personas than a quick-change artist.

Not everything lands, however, and there’s a sense Nodder has funnier bones in his arsenal than he’s sharing in this show. What truly works, and has the crowd hooting with laughter, are his renditions of popular songs Shallow and Space Oddity. No spoilers here, but suffice to say his mouth isn’t the body part delivering these hits (and nothing rude, either, before you get the wrong idea).

Nodder’s ability to convey complex narratives, such as the Big Bang or aspects of physics, without ever saying a word (aside from some amusing noises) is truly impressive. We just need more of those belly laughs. Kelly Apter

Vidrado ★★

Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 16 August

There’s a warmth and charm to Guilherme Torres that can’t help but win you over. Wheeling around the stage on a bicycle and unicycle, the look of glee on his face whenever he does something tricky (always accompanied by a delighted “Hey!”) is nothing short of beguiling.

But the show’s content, impressive as it is in places, feels more suited to a child’s birthday party than the world stage. At a festival showcasing some of the most technically proficient and fearless, performers on the contemporary circus scene, sadly Torres’ overly padded solo falls short of the mark. Kelly Apter

Everybody’s Got a Bomb ★★

Zoo Southside (Venue 82) until 16 August

There is no shortage of talent on stage in this angry ensemble piece by Australian choreographer Riley Fitzgerald. Eight technically strong female dancers pour everything they have into the athletic pulling, fevered clambering, rage-filled screaming and, eventually, empowered optimism.

But the work slips between abstract and (some sort of) narrative with difficulty; either it’s too opaque or naively on the nose.

Although in need of trimming, dimly lit, and often lingering too long in one place (choreographically and musically), Everybody’s Got a Bomb is frustration in physical form. Which, in today’s world, is a laudable message to convey, if only it had more nuance. Kelly Apter

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