Cruel and Unusual

It begins with massed ranks of dancers, male and female, mirroring each other's moves and twisting like tango to an uneasy hybrid of glitches and baroque melody. Slowly, individuals emerge, are paired off or slip into solos that fight against the tide of mechanical choral choreography. Smaller groups break away, short interludes of erotic fascination or antagonism replace the relentless unity. By the interval, the knives are out, thrown into wood and, inevitably, killing a willing victim.

Deborah Colker works in the space between dance forms. Hints of ballet, tango, angular contemporary and even the freedom of street dance are recognisable, yet smelted into a composite style that is aggressive, sensual and brutal. The set is shoved carelessly across the stage: a massive table echoes an emptied last supper or becomes a cage: mirrored doorways flip open and shut, revealing and hiding bodies disjointed by reflection.

Meaning is elusive, the movement suggestive. Sometimes erotic, other times acrobatic, the honed company conjure a stylish descent to hell through precise pas de deux as they scramble across each other and the scenery. Unsettling and immediate, Colker's Cruel is a satisfying trawl through the undercurrents of gender politics and relationships.