Kayla-Maree Tarantolo weds poise to anguish in this intoxicating and darkly brooding reimagining of Romeo and Juliet, a drug induced fever-dream ballet that lunges the gap between grace and grit
There aren’t many Shakespeare stories (in fact stories in general), that have been reimagined, adapted, modernised and responded to more than Romeo and Juliet, that most classic of love stories that has survived the ages, with each interpretation seeking to bring a new light to the well-trodden source material. We think of Baz Lurhman’s 1996 R+J, swapping swords for glocks and set amongst the downtown industry of American promise. Or, in recent times, And Juliet, the David Read musical in which the ending of the play is rewritten, with Juliet surviving the star-crossed lovers’ fates. Whatever the interpretation, there seems to be something about the tale that will forever root itself in our culture. This production, a collaboration between Scottish Ballet and Forest of Black, boldly climbs those roots and peaks itself high above the canopy.
The opening of These Violent Delights may at first seem like familiar territory; the camera moving slowly across a rose petal strewn floor, a broken bottle and red sheets, a Romeo-shaped body sprawled across the latter. Juilet awakes, breathless. But as she does, a set of switching limbs unfurl from her bed, dragging her back to sleep. What follows is a thrilling, hyperpaced dream through the eyes of Juliet, told through dizzying choreography, beautifully orchestrated camera movements and a score which pulses, soars and gently weeps.
The calibre of the ballet is, of course, towering. Choreographer Julia Cheng and her team have envisioned a unique physical language, and in a film where there is no dialogue, characters bicker, scream and dote through gesture alone. Tybalt with his stiff aggression, Lady Capulet, overbearing and lurching, or Romeo, played by Ishan Mahabir-Stokes, whose movements are always changing direction, gliding from this way to that, showing his inner turmoil. This physical language culminates in Kaya-Maree Tarantolo’s Juliet, a standout performance. The way her body language shifts, from her small, reluctant presence in scenes with her father and Paris, to her rebellious and joyful dances with Romeo, Tarantolo brings an enigmatic spark to the character.
Then there are the camera movements, which are as dynamic and fluid as the performers. We are up and down, pirouetting and pulling back, gliding with every lift and never watching from a fixed position. With this choice, directors Oscar Sansom and Christoper Hampson have clearly endeavoured to separate this piece from a filmed stage show which we may be familiar with watching at home. The cuts here are quick and unpredictable, and in scenes with tension, such as the fight between Tybalt and Mercutio, there is a real visceral energy. We are there, fully believing in this world of dance, engrossed and immersed in it.
John Lemke’s score is varied and exciting, although some of the more ambient passages are perhaps a little unambitious. However, with the inclusion of drum breakdowns and pulsating, brooding bass, the music for the most part perfectly echoes the anguish on display. The production design is also a success, with Sami Fendall’s costumes and set design placing the story in the here and now, and yet with a certain off-kilter style that feeds into the dream aesthetic. Colours are too vivid and lights are too fluorescent to be real world, and yet, the Capulets in their velvet tracksuits and the Montagues in their old-money shirts, cement the story completely in the here and now.
The modernising in this piece is fun and on the nose. Friar Lawrence, now a drag queen (excellent) rules biblically from the stage of “The Apothecary” nightclub. There is one scene where, to symbolise the love between R and J, the two drop heart-shaped acid, given by the friar, to rapturous cheering from the night-club crowd. It’s fun, it’s silly and it’s in good contrast to the more subversive movements of the performance.
In all aspects, These Violent Delights hits home. An excellent collaboration which will hopefully spark a long series of similar flicks. The performances are nuanced, the technicals are of the highest stock, and the whole thing shines like a diamond. If you’re a bit sniffy about traditional ballet, don’t worry. This isn’t that. This is ballet done right. Sleek, modern and sexy.
These Violent Delights will be released in UK cinemas from 21st October.