Review - Kiss & Cry by Charleroi Danses

If you think love is a topic too often explored in the world of arts and literature, think again.

Kiss & Cry encapsulates a universal theme known too well – the hope of true love. Through an exploration of a miniature world and the narration of picturesque poetry, we are introduced to the several types of love Giselle encounters in her life, alongside her undying hope of finding the innocence in a 13-second, childlike love affair once again. Who better to tell this moving story of love and loss then married couple Jaco Van Dormael, Belgian film director, and dancer/choreographer Michéle Anne De Mey.

The performance begins; a screen hovers above the stage; high-tech camera equipment and miniature sets are neatly scattered on stage. Dormael initiates the soundscape by blowing a whistle that imitates the song of a bird and the rest of the production crew gradually join along. They are spirited, acknowledging each other as the layers of sound increase, almost like a nod of recognition to their roles as performers as well as production crew. Only seconds after starting, already there is something humbly compassionate and playful about the performance, a sentiment that remains consistent throughout.  Although the performance began with a good-humoured use of onstage sound, various genres of music – from opera to French swing – compliment the live filming to create the differing atmospheres of Giselle’s five love stories.

Complimentary to the pleasing sound design is the beautiful scenes of choreography performed entirely by human hands. The hands of De Mey and Gregory Grosjean dance with such elegance and grace in scenes of romance and pleasure, and with convincing struggle and despair in scenes of tragedy and loss. It’s incredible how well a good chemistry can be seen through the simple movements of hands in space.

And yet, the animation of hands and simulation of miniature figures would not have been as captivating without Dormael’s intricate eye for cinematography. From the detailed work on camera angles and focus, to the symbolic use of symmetry and reflection through mirrors, Dormael creates a mesmerising collection of moving artwork onscreen, capturing De Mey’s choreography onstage immaculately. The fact that everything unfolding on screen is happening live and unedited on stage is astonishing, and it was done almost flawlessly. Although there was a technical fault midway through the performance, the sheer splendour of a miniature world being brought to life through live cinema was enough to dismiss it.

Most of the action happens on screen, however film does not overshadow the theatrical scope of the performance. It does not fail to portray the beauty of theatrical elements such as shadow puppetry and dance, two features that embody the fragility of Giselle’s memories when they are being unboxed. If anything, the world of theatre and film collaborate seamlessly in this cinematic, poetically compelling performance.

“In the beginning, we don’t know how much it’s all going to last…” and you most definitely wanted this experience to last.

[photography by Marteen Van Abeele]