Jasmin Vardimon Company at Sadler’s Wells, London
October 25, 2016
David Mead
Pinocchio. Just the name immediately brings to mind the Disney film. But what’s often forgotten, or even not realised, is that the story is much older, having been first published back in 1883. It’s that Carlo Collodi novel which is very much Jasmin Vardimon’s starting point for her Pinocchio. And what joy to find a work that, far from being the dance of the film, is rather closer to being the dance of the book, an altogether darker affair.
The age guidance for Vardimon’s Pinocchio may be “7+”, but don’t for a moment think this is purely a children’s piece. If the Sadler’s Wells shows are any guide, the youngsters will find lots in it. Indeed, almost without exception they sat rapt for the full 90 minutes, and that’s a long time for them to sit still. But this is a production that has plenty in it for grown-ups too. It is multi-layered and communicates on many levels.
Not that there’s much time for the mind to wander. There’s a lot of story to get through, even after Vardimon has cut a few episodes out such as Pinocchio burning his feet on the stove, the cat killing and eating the bird who tries to warn Pinocchio of the trap they are laying, and Pinocchio’s own killing of the talking cricket. The latter is a shame in some ways as it illustrates perfectly the consequences of anger, even in a child. Still, some editing is always necessary and the editing has been done in such a way that retains the essence and moral of the tale. What is great is that the tale is told with superb clarity; there’s never a doubt about what is happening.
There may be no cricket character, but there his spirit is brought to life by white gloved hands, which in the darkness form a face. At various points the action is interrupted as it speaks, sounding rather like a sage and kindly uncle as it gives us some emotionally detached advice and reminding us of the consequences of pursuing the action he intends or certain behaviour rather than following parents’ advice and going to school.
Vardimon and co-set designer Guy Bar Amotz spirit us from location to location with ease, the scenery being manipulated by the performers. The marionette theatre with dancers on wires (again controlled by other dancers as the puppeteers) is a delight, especially the very individual version of Beyoncé’s Crazy in Love. Best of all is the very yellow Inn of the Red Lobster, to which Pinocchio goes with the Fox and Cat. The show leaves many images in the memory, but the couple leaving still sat each side of a now flying table is one of the best. Also clever and rather funny is a scene where the feet of a couple of guests become the heads of two diners eating a plate a spaghetti.
Maria Doulgeri is delightful as Pinocchio, whose transformation from naïve innocent is clear in characterisation and choreography. An early duet for the puppet and David Lloyd’s Gepetto in which the former very slowly comes to life is full of innovative partnering. Pinocchio learning to walk is very realistic; not unlike a new-born calf, legs splaying in all directions as he struggles to get to his feet and stay there. Indeed, the choreography throughout is Vardimon at her inventive, theatrical best. Those looking for classical Vardimon athletic moments, dancers throwing themselves to the floor and rebounding, will find them here too.
The Cat and Fox (Vroš Petronijevic and Estéban Lecoq) are mildly humorous but do lack depth. While clearly a pair of crooks, they’re just a bit too nice. They do have a whale of a time at the Inn, though.
Among the best of the dark scenes is Pinocchio being bullied and rejected by other children, and the sudden turning of the Land of Toys into the ‘Land of Horror’ where a whip wielding nasty figure in a red bandana very much holds sway over what is now a band of donkeys (incidentally, a neat historical reference since at the time of the book in Italy there was a debate that likened oppressed peasant workers to donkeys).
Gepetto sailing on a stormy sea is well done, again with the aid of some wires, and the black whale that swallows him and Pinocchio (dogfish in the book) comes out of nowhere. The end comes quite suddenly, a voice telling us that there are many stories about how they got home. It’s one for the imaginations.
Dance companies doing versions of well-known children’s stories with the aim of attracting young audiences to the art form are becoming increasingly common. This is that, but it’s also so much more. This is Pinocchio given new and refreshing life, and a depth so rarely seen. I predict it will become much loved. One for all the family.
Jasmin Vardimon’s Pinocchio continues on tour. Click here for details of dates and links to theatre booking.
Running time: 90 minutes with no interval.