Dancing on Earth, Now and Later

Edinburgh International Festival kept true to its name this years, featuring two productions that are worlds apart in more ways than one: the futuristic ballet Mere Mortals, performed by San Francisco Ballet at the Edinburgh Playhouse; and Inala, a song-and-dance celebration performed at the Lyceum by an all-South African company from Soweto.

Mere Mortals ★★★★ 4 stars

In a festival sea of one-person shows, the mere giganticness of Mere Mortals — more than 40 dancers and a full orchestra — is enough to get the heart pumping. So it was not surprising when the lively audience at the Edinburgh Playhouse got more rambunctious as the show’s start time got delayed more than 15 minutes.

Or was that holdup intentional?

A loud, insistent humming noise began emanating soon after the show’s official start time while the house lights were still on, the Royal Scottish National Orchestra fully seated and raring to go. Turns out the industrial buzzing was an aural prologue to the spectacle to come, a vivid retelling of the story of Pandora’s Box in the AI age. Prometheus en pointe, as it were.

That said, if you hadn’t read about the ballet beforehand, that tale would escape you, as the storytelling is too opaque amidst all the visual pageantry. Fortunately, the splendid dancing and music more than made up for the show’s narrative shortcomings.

Fernando Carratalá Coloma and Nikisha Foga stand out as Prometheus and Pandora, respectively, but strong as all the show’s principal dancers are in their multiple solos and pas de deux, Aszure Barton’s momentous choreography shines brightest whenever the full company floods the stage. The corps de ballet is the core of this piece, electrifying and haunting in its powerful synchronicity, driven to unified perfection by Floating Points’ sterling score, a mélange of electronica and orchestra that doggedly drives the dancers.

Pulsating, planetary visuals (some created by AI, natch) by Hamill Industries flood the screens that move about the stage, and costume designer Michelle Jank creates her own coup de thèâtre when the company, previously clad in ominous dark attire (Prometheus is prominently dressed as a Darth Vader-ish ninja sans the face mask) emerges from the wings late in the show in gold lamé bodysuits.

Suddenly all is shimmering and bright, a hopeful decree that humanity will eventually thrive in this technological age. Given all that proceeded the moment, the optimism feels questionable.

Inala ★★★ 3 stars

Given the ceaseless smiles the gorgeously cheerful ensemble of Inala flashes at the audience, optimism is undeniable. If only the audience knew why the cast of nine singers-dancers-musicians was so joyful.

Inala, which translates to an “abundance of goodwill”, was sung entirely in Zulu without surtitles or program notes. To be fair, the show was announced as a replacement for a cancelled production 15 days before the start of this year’s festival, and major props to EIF for finding a replacement at such a late date.

As a last-minute substitute, the show is fine; the cast and crew of Inala did a fine job of providing gentle, harmonious entertainment. But without translations, any notion of story is lost, and as there were no breaks between numbers, the show just becomes a sweet song cycle without greater meaning or depth.

For some, the celebratory nature of the event itself is sufficient. But for many, this reviewer included, neither the music nor the choreography is diverse enough to sustain attention on its own without any understanding of the love affairs and quarrels that it seems to be depicting. Love the smiles, but need some story.