Cold Blood
Conceived and created by Michele Anne De Mey, Jaco von Dormael and Kiss and Cry Collective. Written by Thomas Gunzig. A collective creation by Gregory Grosjean, Thomas Gunzig, Julien Lambert,Sylvie Olive.Nicolas Olivier with the participation of Thomas Beni, Glaadys Brookfield-Haampson, Boris Cekeevda, Gabriella Iacono, Aurelie Leporcq, Bruno Olivier, Stefano Serra. Ridley Centre. Adelaide Showgrounds.Adelaide Festival. March 5-8 2020
Reviewed by Peter Wilkins
The fascination is aroused as the
lights fade and Thomas Gunzig’s text
begins with Toby Regbo’s ethereal narration.
It’s dark’
Your eyes are open, but you see
nothing.
You’ve switched off your phone
Because you’ve been asked to.
You think you’re at the theatre
And yet you’re already elsewhere.
You will live seven deaths.
Without worry, without fear.
Each death is a surprise.
Each death is the first.
Deaths are like lives.
No two are alike.
At every festival you hope that
there may be at least one performance that will take your breath away. It will be utterly unique, so brilliantly
inventive. It will open your eyes to new perceptions of art. It will entertain
and amaze. It will be a rare and unforgettable experience. Cold Blood from
Belgium is such a work of art. Seven unexpected and unusual deaths are
presented through a hybrid of live theatre, cinema and technology. Below a
large screen actors and video operators bring Thomas Gunzig’s seven deaths to
life upon the screen. Toby Regbo’s sobering and ironically re-assuring
narration introduces each death, the unexpected, the comical, the macabre, the
erotic, the accidental, the gory.
Each death unfolds before our
eyes as a series of miniature models are moved into position and a Hand Dance
creates the human figure within the scene.
Hand and fingers walk, dance, create Busby Berkley routines, float
through space and die. A model plane crashes in a forest. Dusters and a model
car with its windows open result in a blood-soaked death in a car wash. Two
pairs of fingers with thimbles adroitly tap out a Fred Astaire and Ginger
Rogers routine on a drive in screen before rows of model cars. A woman lures
the unsuspecting to their grisly death before eating them. Hers is a
particularly unsavoury death. Three minutes of rapture is all a man had before
choking to death on a pole dancer’s bra clasp. And the climax to this chronicle
of different deaths is the Space Odyssey death of floating finger astronauts to
the sound of Ground Patrol to Major Tom.
In wonder, we watch the scenes
unfold, our eyes darting from the company working their magic in real life to
the image upon the screen. All the while the all-knowing narrator recounts with
matter of fact impartiality the fates of the unfortunate. It is not that we die
that matters. It is how we die, And for that there can be no control, whether
it be in a plane crash, a car wash, or
choked by a bra clasp, or struck by a fatal allergy to hospital potatoes or in
a spaceship after that last regrettable argument with no kiss goodbye.
In this ingenious invention Death
has no sting. Directors Jaco Van Dormael and Michele Anne De Mey have conceived
an exceptional live theatre cinema experience, starring dancing hands and
fingers and an exquisite cast of model sets and pieces. Thomas Gunzig’s text
lulls us into a false sense of our immunity to Death. That happens to other
people. We can laugh and cry at the manner of the deaths in Cold
Blood. How will we face our own?
Cold Blood takes the
audience on a journey that transcends expectation. Its construct is intricately
planned, its design astounding in its manifestation and we are transfixed by
the wizardry of the hand dance. Brilliantly conceived, superbly executed and
utterly unique, Cold Blood takes
the collaboration between cinema and theatre to a whole new level. It is
little wonder that this highly imaginative and entertaining show should take
the prize as a hot Adelaide Festival favourite.
