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Moments of silence, intonations of different languages, and very energetic soundtrack-style pop music meet a characteristic, movable set and it creates a really film-like atmosphere on stage. A dark, film-like atmosphere without a film-like structure, because parallel things happen, and there are only a few “dramatical premier-plans”, which help us focusing on the important figures or events. Events and characters are cut out. Literally cut out from the space of the performance, by the scene, which consist of black panels, a line pole and different metal wires, steel cables stretched by the dancers and actors themselves. These flexible, movable wires divide the space into small pieces and constantly changing territories so most of the performers have to move fast and carefully so as not to bump into these cables, while dancing, jumping, walking, running from one corner of the stage to another. Wires and cables are functioning as the physical version of a choreographic idea – lines which lead movements. These scenes and the extreme sport-like “pas de deuxs” with jumps and elevations, the duets where women’s body are used like weapons are very physical, pure and simple. But these extremely strong physical effects are disappearing, becoming effortless between the short stories of narrative. Between the monologues about sexual habits and revolutionary speeches by the blond girl, between grotesque hospital scenes, confessions to somebody called Pablo, who is not there, crazy masks, hierarchical and cruel games. The ironic and self-reflected gesture of stopping the performance for a moment pretending like it was just a rehearsal, or film-shooting does not induce a revulsion in the story or the atmosphere. We get the possibility of an ironic reading of the whole performance, but it does not changes anything. From the auditorium the piece looks like a pseudo-logical structure of a personal nightmare, to which is hard to connect.

Power in choreography. Presence on stage. Intensity in movements. These are the things that really come to my mind in connection with Wim Vandekeybus and Ultima Vez. In general. And now exactly these things are missing from the performance “Menske”. The piece is like a promising last-minute journey to the suburban areas of Nowhere Town, to where I cannot buy a return ticket. Actually I do not want to buy a one-way ticket either. Or you know what? It is more like that big poster, part of the scenery in the front stage which picture two corridors. It seems interesting, but you can go in. You bump into walls, you stay out, and you realize that important dimensions are missing.