From the start, we find it long. As the show progresses, the impression is confirmed. It will take – phew! – the finale of Age of Content, the last show from (La) Horde, to thrill a little bit.
Before this awakening, here is a carcass of a remote-controlled car on stage, some Martians (in green, of course) having fun and fighting on the hood. The bodywork has the jolts of a lowrider. At the back of the stage, a yellow curtain in the style of a convention center, a few boxes in a corner, a warehouse mezzanine. It is not in praise of beauty but of ugliness that the three bosses of (La) Horde-Ballet national de Marseille agree with us. A mannequin falls from the ceiling. He transforms into a blond ephebe and walks like an automaton.
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The curtain opens on a clone of the boy, although older, and with the same gestures. The only funny moment in the show: he is wearing jeans so low-cut that we can see half of his ass which he is showing with relish (we wonder how he manages to dance in such attire). The costumes are obviously very “fashion”. The dancers become package deliverers, the yellow curtain closes and… gets stuck.
A few words from Alphaville are declaimed in English (as if there were no French-speaking authors worthy of being cited), and in playback. Only the music of Philip Glass brings a little relief at the end and, at least, the dancers dance. But it’s just a pale and ridiculous pastiche of Dance by Lucinda Childs. In short, here we are at the heart of one of the most useless shows of the moment. Fruit of the excessive pretension of the three authors who think they are revolutionizing dance by believing themselves to be original. The only consolation: this jumble only lasts an hour and fifteen minutes.
November 17 in Chalon-sur-Saône; on the 21st in Dijon; January 18 in Créteil; on the 21st in Charleroi; April 2 at Le Mans; the 11th in Châteauroux; May 2 in Aix-en-Provence; the 9th in Madrid; on the 17th in Amiens; on the 23rd in Clermont-Ferrand.
