Northern Ballet take on the holocaust with The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas

Curve, Leicester
June 3, 2017

David Mead

You can’t accuse Northern Ballet and choreographer Daniel de Andrade of shying away from the difficult subjects, and they certainly don’t come more difficult than the holocaust.

Based on John Boyne’s 2006 novel of the same title, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas is the story of Bruno, the nine-year-old son of a Nazi officer who is put in command of Auschwitz (“Out-With” as the boy calls it), how he befriends Shmuel, a Jewish boy of the same age, through the fence of the camp, and how through misadventure they end up dying next to each other in the gas chamber. Running alongside the boy’s story, things up at the family house are less than happy too, not least thanks to Bruno’s 13-year old sister Gretel being decidedly taken by SS Lieutenant Kotler, who also trifles with their mother.

The book, and the subsequent 2008 film by Mark Herman, attracted considerable criticism. New York Rabbi Benjamin Blech, for example, called it a “blatant distortion” and a “profanation”. You can see his point. Anyone below working age was murdered on arrival at Auschwitz and the idea that anyone could become friends with a prisoner through the fence, let alone break in, is ridiculous.

Still, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas is the ‘ballet of the book’, not the ‘ballet of historical fact’, and de Andrade does tell the story clearly. The fact it so closely follows the book is an issue though, not least because the novel is aimed at young teenagers with events seen through a child’s eyes. However much we try, us adults, who make most of the ballet’s audience cannot see it as young people do. We know the heinous truth.

As Bruno, Kevin Poeung captures remarkably well the innocence and boyish playfulness and wonder of a nine-year old. Even better is Antoinette Brooks-Daw’s Greta, danced beautifully lightly. De Andrade’s choreography for them provides a good contrast with that for the military, all inspired by goose-steps and stiff-arm salutes, and everything else going on around them. Except when playing with Bruno, Shmuel (Filippo Di Vilio) and the other prisoners are limp with hunger. The choreography for the Nazis is full of dance inspired by goose-steps and stiff-armed salutes.

As good as their performances are, we do though have the usual problems of adults playing young children. The dancers make it work remarkably well when the children alone are together but, when they are in scenes that also involve adult characters, things struggle for credibility.

De Andrade’s best character is The Fury (Bruno’s mispronunciation of ‘The Fuhrer’), a shadowy, gas mask wearing black figure of death that stalks the whole production like a game player slowly but surely leading all his players to their death. Mlindi Kulashe danced with great command. As Bruno’s aloof father, Javier Torres showed cool authority and did convey some of the sense of being caught between being the family man and duty. As Lieutenant Kotler, Sean Bates came across well as rather supercilious, although I got no sense of any feeling for Greta or her mother, though maybe that is deliberate.

The story is told at fast-forward speed. Almost everything happens in a rush, including important events. De Andrade gives nothing time to develop. It’s no coincidence that the best and most hard-hitting moments come when things slow down. One of the best few seconds comes towards the end, just before Bruno, Shmuel and the other prisoners go to the gas chambers, when four figures in gas masks stand facing the audience, motionless. O for a little more of that. While Act II is better than Act I, this is a ballet that always seems to be gasping for breath.

The impact of the ending gets lost too. The entry to the gas chambers, closing of the doors and the gas falling is over far too quickly. It is a powerful final image, though; or would be if de Andrade hadn’t felt the need to show us Bruno’s grief-stricken parents in an unnecessary coda.

Gary Yershon’s contemporary classical music certainly creates an atmosphere, but struggles for contrast. The subject matter hardly calls for a host of glorious melodies but like so many of its ilk, the score searches in vain for an even half-decent tune. Even when the opportunity arises, such as the dance that takes place at the Act II dinner party, it’s not taken. The contrast would have heightened the tensions that then erupt.

Mark Bailey’s set (he is also responsible for the excellent costumes) works well, shifting location with ease.

I walked away from the theatre feeling uncomfortable. Not with the events portrayed, but with the way they are portrayed. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas is well-danced and well-staged, but even at the distance we now are, I found parts of it crass and insensitive. Events may not be romanticised but they are fanticised. Everything looks and feels sanitised, Disney-fied even. The horrors are all diluted. The beating up of the Jews and their herding into cattle wagons, the camp, the prisoners, are all so unreal it’s a travesty.

Of course, it is difficult to express the horror of the holocaust in dance. Maybe it’s impossible to fully do the subject justice. Then again, MacMillan did a pretty effective job with Valley of Shadows. But maybe the real difficulty here is the story, the book, and de Andrade’s decision to follow it as closely as he does.

The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas continues on tour. Visit www.northernballet.com for dates and details.