A Pint and Pointe

Bobak, Laura and Didge are hip-hop dancers not much interested in anything else. They receive a mysterious invitation to dance at a traditional pub in town, The Fighting Cocks. At first they assume that it is deserted, but things get interesting when Bobak finds a pewter tankard and gives it a rub, at which point a whole host of characters appear…

If the blurb for Time Gentlemen Please! sounds a little far-fetched, that’s possibly because it is. However, rather than being an awkward concoction of dance styles, this is actually a highly-accomplished and brilliant piece of theatre from director Damian Barber.

Dance theatre can often be a hit-and-miss genre, especially where it makes use of showier modern dance styles in an attempt to grapple with something deep and meaningful, but too frequently impressive or flashy choreography masks a void of meaninglessness at the heart of the production. Thankfully, Time Gentlemen Please avoids these pitfalls and instead tells the story of one night in a bar through the use of traditional and modern dance styles, simultaneously celebrating the differing styles whilst highlighting their shared heritage. It is an absolute riot of a production, incorporating hip-hop styles such as krump and b-boy as well as clog dancing and other folk dances, with music from the Demon Barbers and phenomenal beat-boxing by Grace Savage.

This distinction from much more ordinary dance theatre is clear from the very beginning. Whilst the three hip-hop characters exploring the pub through the medium of dance might sound somewhat pointless and gratuitous, and certainly it would be in another production, here it is not. Though ostensibly ‘hip-hop’ dancers, these three each have their own style, and in this section the styles are obviously defined against one another. Similarly, throughout the piece each dancer or group of dancers is allowed time to showcase their methods: the three clog-dancing girls have a dance-off with the first trio; a section in which a punter has a dispute with a bouncer is done through Morris dance. This ought to be twee, but it’s not – it’s absolutely superb. The dancers are incredibly talented and the choreography, done by Bobak Walker, is very well-done, always pertinent and potent. Laura Connolly in particular shines as one of the clog dancers, dancing and acting with huge charisma, and the aforementioned Didge (his real name) is a lithe live-wire in the hip-hop crew.

This helps the piece to do one of the things that it sets out to achieve, which is to celebrate each technique in its own right, and to recognise the worth of both old and new. Furthermore, in juxtaposing such apparently contrasting dance styles, it achieves another objective, which is to highlight the shared heritage of these dances and the debt to which the modern ones owe the more traditional. Though this may not sound particularly plausible at first, once you have seen it (and have read the programme, full of information) it seems obvious.

The structure of the show is very episodic. Nothing is wrong with this per se, but it occasionally feels slightly ‘bitty’ – it finds itself caught somewhere between a dance show, a play and a folk gig, and this sometimes jars to one used to pieces more cohesive in their style. However, it doesn’t particularly take away from the piece, which continues to hurtle merrily along from dance-off to dance-off with the audience hanging on to it all.

The piece is at its best, however, when it combines the varying modern and traditional styles, and not just the dance – the Demon Barbers’ soundtrack incorporates their favoured folk ditties and laments with funk, rock and hip-hop brilliantly. When the beat-boxing combines with clog dancing and hip-hop for the first time in Act 1, the result is genuinely jaw-dropping, being not only an extraordinary cross-genre fusion but well-crafted and celebratory too – it is not a mash, but a collaboration. The dance-song duet between Bobak and Bryony Griffith on vocals and violin is haunting, and the effect is only enhanced when Grace Savage weighs in with the beat.

I’d have liked to have seen more of the masks, which appeared after Bobak rubs the tankard, and appeared later on briefly but felt underused. I’m also unconvinced as to whether the production needed an interval, as it lost some of its momentum afterwards, but these points were minor and again did not really detract. This was a hell of an achievement – truly original, well put together and an absolute blast of an evening. Damian Barber and his cast and crew are to be commended for what they have done. Go and see it if you get the chance.