SOMEWHERE AT THE BEGINNING: Dance Review

WHAT: Somewhere At The Beginning
WHEN: 29 March - 1 April 2023
WHERE: Arts House (Main Hall)
CONCEPT AND DIRECTION BY: Mikael Serre

CHOREOGRAPHY BY: Germaine Acogny
COMPOSITION BY: Fabrice Bouillon "LaForest"
PERFORMED BY: Germaine Acogny and Fabrice Bouillon "LaForest"
DESIGN BY: Maciej Fiszer
LIGHTING BY: Sebastien Michaud
VIDEOGRAPHY BY: Sebastien Depouey
COSTUMES BY: Johanna Diakhate-Rittmeyer

Germaine Acogny - photo supplied

The new FRAME dance festival is coming to a close and it has been an exciting window into the literal world of dance. At Arts House the tour ends in West Africa with Germaine Acogny bringing her 2016 autobiographical work Somewhere At The Beginning to Melbourne audiences.

Acogny, born of the Yonuba people, grew up in French colonised Senegal before living a life travelling between Europe and West Africa, along the way developing what we now call contemporary African Dance. As decorated and celebrated as she now is, the journey has not been easy as all women of colonised first nation people all around the world can tell us.

Using the superstructure of the Greek tragedy and, more specifically, the story of Medea, director Mikael Serre has taken the journal writings of Acogny's father and wrapped them around Acogny's experiences of growing up, being a woman in a polygamous society, and struggling to grasp her traditional spirituality under the oppression of Christianity.

Somewhere At The Beginning is the story of an accidental female child born into a community which places value on gender and finding herself on the wrong side of that coin. On the other hand, this little baby is lauded as the reincarnation of her grandmother, a spiritual leader of the Yonuba people. With her first breaths comes her first moments of cognitive dissonance. Is she herself or her grandmother? Is she powerful or is she of little worth? 

Nothing in her life will solve this conundrum. Acogny will forever be the rightful owner of the knives wielded by her grandmother in ritual sacrifice for an ancient people, but she will also always be the first wife of a polygamist. She will always be an indigenous person in a colonised country. She will always be an immigrant who developed a world-famous contemporary dance technique in a foreign country.

The story telling is powerful and Sebastien Dupouey's images dominate. Images of West African women dancing and discussing sharing a husband (it is not a positive conversation), images of ritual sacrifice, and images of a matriarch (Acogny's grandmother?) talking. These images move between the front scrim and the rear projection wall echoing the movement of Acogny in the space. All of it amplified and textured by the incredible score created and performed live by Fabrice Bouillon "LaForest". Also, A quick shout out to the best scrim ever, created by Maciej Fiszer.

All of this is dwarfed, however, by the sheer presence, grace, and maturity of Acogny herself. Yes, she is an older woman now, and her body does not move as it perhaps once may have. I read an interview in which she stated she does not mourn her young body. I don't blame her. What Acogny has now is the wisdom to use her frame to maximum power and effect with absolute efficiency and full impact. When you are processing dissonance and weaving ritual you do not need those ridiculous lines and extensions and whirls and twirls which colonise our western understanding of classical/professional dance. 

In my review of Exposed I talked about how all dance companies should be all abilities and this is what I am talking about. The bodies need to tell the story in front of us, not a story of hundreds of years of technical history. We are here, now, and this is the story to be told and it should be told by those of us in the room - not some idealised or exagerated version of what human beings are. I am not saying technique is not important. I am saying use the tools needed for the story and beware artefacts from other stories which have no place.

I will get off my soap box now and continue to talk about Somewhere At The Beginning again. I wanted to have a quick word about the subtlety and power of the costumes by Johanna Diakhate-Rittmeyer. In particular I have to tell you about the power of a printed t-shirt. I won't give away the surprise, but sometimes when a person turns their back to you, you come to understand what is really going on.

To be in the presence of so much experience, sorrow, and grace which Acogny brings to the stage in Somewhere At The Beginning is to feel great awe and humility. I do feel that Serre has fractured and layered the work into too many pieces for the audience to follow clearly. On the other hand it leaves a sense of bewilderment at times which is, perhaps, a peep hole into living in the dissonance of cultural and religious colonisation to which Acogny is referring.

Somewhere At The Beginning is unlikely to come to our shores again. It would be a shame to miss it, and despite it being a tale from the other side of the world, the resonances with what we are dealing with in Australia right now are undeniable. Perhaps, for some, seeing those cultural dissonances in a different context will help us understand what is happening on our very own doorstep.

4 Stars

TRASH POP BUTTERFLIES, DANCE DANCE PARADISE: Theatre Review

WHAT: Trash Pop Butterflies, Dance Dance Paradise
WHEN: 22 May - 1 April 2023
WHERE: Theatre Works
WRITTEN BY: Maki Morita
DIRECTED BY: Amelia Burke
DESIGN BY: Jessamine Moffett
LIGHTING BY: Tessa Atkinson and Giovanna Yate Gonzales
SOUND BY: Laura Strobech
PERFORMED BY: Hayley Edwards, Myfanwy Hocking, Alana Louise, Margot Morales and Vivian Nguyen 

CHOREOGRAPHY BY: Alec Katsourakis

Myfanwy Hocking and Margot Morales - photo by Oscar Shaw

Expressionist surrealism with a healthy dose of agitprop. Yes, let your mind expand and then explode as you watch Trash Pop Butterflies, Dance Dance Paradise at Theatre Works this week. It's pop, it's punk, it's a high energy onslaught looking for something better as the world decomposes around us.

Trash Pop Butterflies, Dance Dance Paradise is a dystopian outcry written by Maki Morita as part of her VCA Masters (Writing) program in 2020. It was originally meant to be presented in 2022 by MKA but was cancelled. In 2023 it gets its moment in the sun at Theatre Works.

Trying to riff off the energy of Pussy Riot, Morita's Trash Pop Butterflies, Dance Dance Paradise is in your face, no breaths, anger and confusion. Morita shows us a world which is a poster child for cognitive dissonance and in imminent arrival at the dystopian train station humanity has built for itself. Three young women bounce around a graffiti covered rubbish dump on an adrenaline high trying to visualise an alternate utopia. Meanwhile, around them, bees are dying, ants are exhausted, and tadpoles are eating each other. And yes, there are dance breaks.

Watching Trash Pop Butterflies I find myself thinking this play stretches the definition of that word. The scenes occur as a series of long form sketches and whilst they are conceptually related and the characters are consistent, they all can and do occur in isolation broken up by brilliant vignettes of dying nature.

In fact, the best parts of Trash Pop Butterflies is those visits by bees, ants, tadpoles etc. They border closely on twee but some really precision movement skills and telling facial expressions by Margot Morales raise them to art and incisive humour. Myfanwy Hocking does a good job too.

Whilst I love the main body of Trash Pop Butterflies - and I have to say Hayley Edwards, Alana Louise, and Vivian Nguyen are amazing - I feel it is just too long with too many causes. In the end, all of that angry rebellious energy gets lost in a myriad of things going wrong in the world. It is exhausting for the audience to follow. 

This isn't helped by Amelia Burke (director) having the actors speak at a breakneck pace for the whole show. Yes, it needs it because otherwise the audience would be stuck there for way to long, but it gives us no chance to process what we are hearing - or care. I admit I came from work so I was tired anyway, but by the end I was struggling to stay awake because I worn down and I just stopped caring about any of it. In my experience you can use this technique for around 50 minutes and the audience stay with you. Longer than that and you need to incorporate dynamics because the brain starts processing the constant noise as background sound and the awareness and attention modes stop activating. 

Having said that, you can activate those states through visuals and other things, but neither the blocking nor design worked to create change - which is ironic because the entire play is a yearning for change. For some reason Jessamine Moffett's set closes off most of the space with a big graffiti wall. There is a sad little trash pile behind it, but it is woeful and unutilised. Downstage left is a little sitting room and right is a garden. With nowhere to move the cast just keep bouncing left to right like a tennis match and there is nothing there for them to explore physically in any interesting way. The dance routines (Alec Katsourakis) are too few and too banal to do anything for the show.

Apart from the incredible performers, it is the sound design which keeps the show alive for as long as it can. Laura Strobech has created an aural landscape which reflects the anger, sorrow, freneticism and desperation of the world being reflected to us.

I think I like Trash Pop Butterflies, Dance Dance Paradise. I definitely like the idea of Trash Pop Butterflies, Dance Dance Paradise. On the whole though, I think Morita needs to give it a bloody good edit. It is never going to work until she finds her target. One play can't do everything, and in trying I have to wonder whether this play ends up doing nothing. 

2.5 Stars

EXPOSED: Dance Review

WHAT: Exposed
WHEN: 22 - 25 March 2023
WHERE: Arts House (Main Hall)
DIRECTED BY: Michelle Ryan
SET & LIGHTING BY: Geoff Cobham
COMPOSITION BY: Hilary Kleinig and Emily Tulloch
COSTUMES BY: Renata Henschke
PERFORMED BY: Darcy Carpenter, Jianna Georgiou, Bhodi Hudson, Alexis Luke, Madalene Macera, Michael Noble, and Charlie Wilkins

Restless Dance Ensemble - Photo by Shane Reid

So very rarely does high concept and high execution come together on stage to form true high art. I am talking Da Vinci level high art. This is because to achieve high art on stage you have to have a raft of people all working at their highest creative and craft peak towards a singular intention. They must each be at their absolute best and at the same time working and creating in a way which supports everyone around them to work at their absolute best. In every way, this is one of the core themes and achievements of Exposed, created by Restless Dance Theatre in 2022 and being presented at Arts House this week.

The word 'exposed' has so many layers of meaning and Exposed explores them all. Whilst the work has been created through a disability lens (Restless Dance Theatre is an all abilities company), one of the amazing strengths of the choreography- and the genius of an all abilities troupe - is that the conversation becomes broader, so broad it captures all of humanity. 

As bodies and differences and truths are exposed on stage, we come to understand that age old adage that nobody succeeds on their own. To be the best we can be we all need help. Some of us need a stick or chair or implant or specialised support worker yes, but all of us need mentors and teachers and facilitators and networks and friends and families to work our way through life. At some point in time we all need somebody to help pick us up of the floor and take the next steps. This is the story of Exposed.

Michelle Ryan (director) talks about how she explores breath as the conceit the show is built around. She talks about how breathe is one of the sign posts for a person's state of mind. When we are scared and agitated our breathing becomes rapid. When we are experiencing physical exertion or pain our breathing becomes laboured. When we are calm our breathing is soft and slow. This is the point where Exposed begins.

The show opens with breath, a huge silver scrim hiding the stage. Slowly, the lighting reveals the troupe behind, exposing them as they dress. Thus the show starts from the perspective of all humanity. No matter who we are, what our ability is, we all start the day with this simple task of putting on our clothes for whatever lies ahead. These first moments of Exposed stamp the show with the demand that we recognise that this tale is for everyone, made by everyone. Human is human and that is all we need to recognise.

From there the dancers explore exclusion, bullying, and abandonment but all ideas come from a place of love and are revealed in utter beauty. It also talks about how we create the 'other' and how that other can shift and change which is a strong revelation (exposure?) of how random and subjective this act of othering is. We become exposed to the painful consequences as dancers are left to sit and watch mournfully from the side or get pushed to the ground. We also get a sneak peak at what I call fake assistance. A hand is offered but the leg keeps the one in need too far away to grasp it.

I am making Exposed sound sad and depressing but it isn't. It is one of the most heart warming shows I have seen in a very long time. Each time it reveals need, the help does come. Somebody turns up or reaches out to assist as much or as little as needed to get the dancer making their next move.

Exposed is also one of the most beautiful shows I have ever seen. The concept is beautiful as I have mentioned and the dancers made me almost cry at moments of utter poignancy. Beyond that, the production is just gorgeous. 

Geoff Cobham's mylar scrim is visually breath taking as it shifts from silver to gold. This 'cloth' really becomes another performer in the dance as it looms over the dancers, bellowing like a heaving lung, or forming a golden hill to fall down from, and then being spun into a suffocating maelstrom. His swirling lights complement the swirling dancers as they group and regroup and move through their complicated (yet simple) stories.

The sound of this great mylar wing becomes an important part of the sound scape too. The crinkling sound (much like cellophane) as it moves and shifts is in conversation with the devastatingly gorgeous composition created by Hilary Kleinig and Emily Tulloch. Kleinig's cello is haunting and uplifting at the same time and I nearly had an orgasm at the hinted fading notes of a military taps bugle at the end of the show, melting back into those first breaths.

I am so glad Exposed has been restaged and I hope it has a long touring life. Not only are the messages in this dance work essential to our humanity. On top of that this is a world class dance work. Watching Exposed made me realise that with the right approach every dance company can be/should be all abilities. These dancers are professional dancers and move with grace, beauty and technical execution. 

Exposed is a world class contemporary dance work and seeing it will open your eyes and, hopefully, your hearts to what is possible for this art form and all of society when everyone is helped to achieve their goals. There is no real 'other'.

5 Stars

THE SABOTEUR: Theatre Review

WHAT: The Saboteur
WHEN: 20 - 25 March 2023
WHERE: The Butterfly Club (Upstairs)
CREATED BY: Jim Fishwick
PERFORMED BY: Kieran Boyd, Jason Geary, Melissa McGlensey, Amy Moule, and Jaklene Vukasinovic
SOUND BY: Bryce Halliday

Jim Fishwick - photo by Kirsty McGuire

It's a lay down misere. Guaranteed fun. If you ever just want to kick your heels up and have a great night out go find an improv show. It can't go wrong. Jetpack Theatre though, have taken the concept and upskilled it in The Saboteur. It is not just improv - it is a whodunnit for the audience as well. Playing at The Butterfly Club this week, this show is Who's Line Is It Anyway with an Agatha Christie adrenaline kicker.

It's a format we know and love. Jim Fishwick is our presenter for the evening and the show begins with him giving us a precis of the 'kitchen rules' of improvisation, introduces the performers (suspects?), and then explains that the real purpose of the evening is for us to figure out who the saboteur in the group is. 

The challenge for the saboteur is to play well enough to not get caught, but do enough to kill (or at least maim) the scenes they are in. This is a tricky performance model because on the one hand the show is being deliberately stifled, but on the other hand the audience is more invested because we are watching closely to see if we can spot the saboteur.

The Saboteur really works though, and I think they add another level of difficulty through misdirection. I suspect some of the performers also play a little... off?... occassionally to really muddle the waters. 

Note, I don't say that as criticism. I say that as an homage to how good they all are at scrambling the eggs. Also, part of the fun of watching improv is the mistakes and difficulties performers experience trying to keep the stories going.

As a straight up improv show The Saboteur is hilarious fun. As a whodunnit it is trickier than figuring out how many portfolio's Scott Morrison held as PM. 

All of the performers were fun and fantastic. Melissa McGlensey can fire up a scene and give it a depth and detail which is impressive. Amy Moule is the master of character creation and Jason Geary brings the energy and dynamics. Jaklene Vukasinovic is incredible at picking up offers, and Kieran Boyd... well isn't he a sneaky little dude!

Yes, Boyd was the saboteur on the night I attended but there is a rotating cast of around 10 actors across the season and a new saboteur is nominated each night so who knows who it will be on the night you go??? (PS: Don't turn off your phone, you will need it. Just switch it to silent).

3.5 Stars

WHEN THE RAIN STOPS FALLING: Theatre Review

 WHAT: When The Rain Stops Falling
WHEN: 2 - 18 March 2023
WHERE: Theatre Works 
WRITTEN BY: Andrew Bovell
DIRECTED BY: Briony Dunn
SET BY: Greg Clarke
LIGHTING BY: Clare Springett
SOUND BY: Darrin Verhagen
PERFORMED BY: Heather Bolton, Lucy Chaix, Chris Connelly, Francis Greenslade, Darcy Kent, Margaret Mills, and Esther Van Doornum
COSTUMES BY: Betty Auhl
PROJECTIONS BY: Jason Gardham
STAGE MANAGED BY: Kim Davies

Francis Greenslade - photo by Lachlan Woods

Few plays speak so directly to our current climate woes than the 2008 Andrew Bovell contemporary epic When The Rain Stops Falling and it is ridiculously on point with the recent flooding of in Alice Springs. Whilst the Iron Lung production currently being presented at Theatre Works has been in the making since 2020, it couldn't have found a better moment in history to be performed than right now. Throughout the play we constantly hear the refrain "Still, there are people drowning in Bangladesh so we shouldn’t complain" in the same way we were brought up hearing about the starving children in India, but to be honest, these days you could easily replace Bangladesh with Lismore...

When The Rain Stops Falling is a play which begins in the future (2039) but weaves and wends its way into a deep past (1959) and forward again to tell its story. This circling of time mirrors the circling of generations and circling of the globe as mistakes are repeated over and over. The despair of repetition is only alleviated by those all so human glimpses of hope for a fresh start. Using an overlay technique in which characters at different times of their lives are occupying the same stage space, we watch sons searching for connections with their fathers, and in turn becoming those very same distant men they were trying to find. This is the true circle of life...

Who knows when the rain started falling? All we know is it hasn't stopped for a very long time. Grey clouds and thunder rend the story at key points to highlight the tension and discomfort of a world eternally grey. The melancholy of the skies reflects the melancholy of the spirits in this bleak world. Fish are extinct and people are isolated by weather, location, state of mind. When The Rain Stops Falling spans a world reaching from London to Perth, from the Nullabor to The Coorong, from Alice Springs to Uluru. And then one day, in the desert centre of Australia where the rain has been falling for such a very long time, a fish falls from the sky.

I need to confess I saw the original production of When The Rain Stops Falling when it played at MTC and I recall saying that it was the best piece of theatre I had ever seen. These are big shoes to fill and I don't think this production does quite meet that standard. Having said that, the cleanness of the Briony Dunn's (director) production allows us to really revel in the writing and reveals detail and nuances in the script with much more clarity, I feel.

Dunn has decided to follow the aesthetic of the original show with a bare and bland Dystopian aesthetic. It is a shame because part of the joy of new presentations of shows comes in seeing new contexts. Having said that, Greg Clarke's set, whilst a touring cliche, does clever things across the top allowing the blackness of the stage space to be not only the looming clouds, but also references the silhouette of Uluru. I kind of wish the projections of Uluru (Jason Gardham) weren't so specific which would have allowed the set to morph the way the play does and add some dynamics to a very geometric space.

Perhaps a lack of dynamics is my biggest problem with this production. Dunn has layered melancholy, disconnection, and greyness over every moment. She lets no life and colour into the show which is a heavy burden for the audience across 2 hours and doesn't really tell the story. There is hope and love and connection in When The Rain Stops Falling, but it is hard to find here. For example when Henry Law (Francis Greenslade) and Elizabeth Law Younger (Esther Van Doornum) appear in their earliest timeline iteration, and when Gabriel Law Older (Darcy Kent) and Gabrielle York Younger (Lucy Chaix) decide to risk a future together, and when a fish falls from the sky... Without those moments of light and connection the true impact of the pain and distance later felt cannot be communicated. Without both this light and shade the true message and impact of the play can also not be conveyed.

The actors were all fantastic and clearly knew what they were doing and why they were there. I particularly enjoyed Chris Connelly's interpretation of Joe Ryan and Heather Bolton, as Gabrielle York Older, was mesmerizing. I got a sense that the cast had been all severely constrained physically - to the point of not being human. There is a movement director credited (Cory Derrick), but they all walk around a bit like zombies and there has been little attempt to connect younger/older versions with any kind of mirrored mannerisms. I think I get the intention, but it creates a sort of visual tedium as a piece of theatre. I saw MOTHERLOD_^E in this same theatre earlier this year and confess to thinking the cast in When The Rain Stops Falling were moving around like The Sims in desperate need of antidepressants. Perhaps that was deliberate...?

Luckily, When The Rain Stops Falling is a play which stands above everything else in the writing alone and Darrin Verhagen's sound design lifts everything it touches (which is the whole play) to a whole new level. Clare Springett's lights bring some nice touches as well.

When the rain stops falling the sun comes out, and it is the dark clouds and wet sky which make that glorious heat and light so refreshing. Andrew Bovell's play, When The Rain Stop Falling, takes us to the darkest and coldest of places so that we are reminded it is our job to find the light and warmth. It is our job to save ourselves and our world, and the way we do it is through change because if we keep doing the same things over and over again, we will get the same results over and over again leading to an inevitable and catastrophic end.

This play is too good to miss despite my luke warm response to some of the technical aspects. When The Rain Stops Falling is a play which should regularly be in the theatre repertoire. It is horror and beauty in the same breath. Life and death in the same heartbeat. Pain and love in the same lifetime. I do want to give a content warning though. The play includes themes of paedophilia and suicide so please consider your triggers and how you might manage them when you buy your tickets.

4 Stars

TWO: Dance Review

 What: Two
When: 1 - 4 March 2023
Where: Arts House (Main Hall)
Choreography by: Raghav Handa
Design by: Justine Shih Pearson
Performed by: Raghav Handa and Maharshi Raval
Lighting by: Karen Norris

Raghav Handa and Maharshi Raval - photography by Joseph Mayers

It's dance season in Melbourne and it kicks off with an incredible multi-cultural line up at Arts House this year. We all love the flavour and energy of Bollywood and the current show, Two, gives us a kind of behind the scenes sneak peak into some of the traditions and history of Indian dance and how welcoming and joyful the more popular forms of entertainment have come into being.

Whilst not a deeply classical Kathak performer, Raghav Handa began his training in this style and has held on to those ideas in his development as a contemporary dancer and choreographer. Along the way he met and performed with tabla virtuoso Maharshi Raval and a bromance the scope of myth and legend came into being. Also, in what seems like the most natural of outcomes, this beautiful show about sharing, pairing, and caring has emerged.

Two is a show about tradition and the modern world. This makes it the most interesting of conversations because we struggle with this question on a daily basis. What is tradition and how do we make it work in a world where we travel all over the place and a world where technology and lifestyle changes faster than the generations are created. What are the important bits? What should we keep? What bits don't fit any more? Where are the parts which can flex and bend and adapt? How do we do that and still show our deep respect for what has been? It would be asking way too much of any show to answer all of these questions but in Two Handa and Raval lead the way in a beautiful duet which makes the spirit soar.

I should begin with a little bit of information about the Kathak dance tradition so that you will better understand Two. Kathak is one of the traditional dance styles of India. Katha means 'story' and a kathakar is 'one who tells a story'. The dance style focuses on the feet and face of the performer with great flexibility across the body. All of this is embodied completely in the work of Handa.

Another important set of traditions sit around the musicians accompanying the dancers. Firstly, they never set up their own instruments, they just come in and play. Secondly, the dancers are never allowed to touch the instruments. There are other rules, but these are the ones you mostly need to know about to understand and appreciate the duel/duet of the tale of Two.

The conversation about tradition begins from the moment we enter the theatre. Handa is walking around and warming up and stretching in front of the audience. Not completely unusual these days but certainly outside the parameters of most dance traditions. Then Raval enters and the instruments have not been set up. He begins by sitting on a staging box and tapping out rhythms as Handa works through the Nritta part of the performance. The Nritta is a sequence of dance technique which begins slow but through repetitions builds up in pace and scale until it is quite frenetic. You can think of the Nritta as the amuse-bouche of the dance form.

Raval and Handa then work together to set up the stage and the instruments. Remember, the musician never sets up for themselves and the dancers are never allowed to touch the instruments! Necessity and modern thinking start to force a stretching of traditional norms.

From that point the Nritya of the performance can begin. The Nritya of a Kathak performance is where the expression and story come into existence. The Nritya can be dance, can include talking to the audience, and it can have improvisation. Handa and Raval explore all of these potentials both by honoring the form and testing, teasing and pulling at the fabric of the detail. Even Raval, the exemplar traditionalist, pokes and prods at tradition by getting away from his drums and sharing the performance stage with Handa - almost in defiance of Handa having touched his drums. Together the pair test the dance form, the performance forms, and even western stage protocols. And don't be too shocked, but Handa doesn't even wear bells on his ankles! Traditional Indian costumes? Not in this show!

Two is a duet which is funny, beautiful and outrageously energetic. It is not Bollywood but at one point in the performance I would definitely call it BollyDisco! I think I read somewhere the pair were compared to Laurel and Hardy but for me I felt it to be more Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis. There is Raval being all suave and traditional and beside him is Handa teasing, questioning, and deconstructing with love and light.

Handa is an extremely accomplished dancer, and Raval is a true master of the tabla. I recently saw an MSO concert with a featured concert pianist. Watching Raval's lightning hands on the tabla and hearing the sounds he created reminded me of watching the hands of that amazing pianist on the big screen at the Sydney Myer Music Bowl. How do body parts even move that fast? And yet there was Handa, matching, meeting, moving feet and body in time.

Two starts slowly (although I think if you know a bit about the traditions from the start it helps to see the subtlety of their work) but it builds and builds until the audience is whooping and hollering at the incredible dance moves and fantastic staging which explodes as the story unfolds. What story? The story of Two. Two men. Two traditions. Two countries. Two times. Two. As an interesting aside, even though both men are Indian, they do not speak the same language. The languages they communicate through are the foreign English, and the language of Kathak.

4.5 Stars