Olivier Assayas's film on the aftermath of May 1968 is infantile ultra-leftism
JOE GLENTON explains his need to respond to a world that is unsustainably divided
ENO's production of La Boheme is a triumph,
Nederlands Dans Theater 2's latest recruits are struggling.
It seems unlikely they'll fall into the lucky 70 per cent to graduate from the company's highly respected youth arm to the main company as they variously dad dance, shuffle about uncomfortably and gamely cut a rug.
The scene, in Ohad Naharin's Minus 16, neatly sums up the way in which the sprawling piece questions the nature of dance.
The most contemporary work within this mixed programme, it showcases the exceptional skill and personality of the 16-strong ensemble.
Set variously to twanging guitars, metronomic pulses and twitching cha cha cha, the performers move through violently repeated Mexican waves, solo turns where the motivation for dancing is derived from voice-overs and energetic street dance.
Humour and audience involvement are frequently used to convey meaning, a technique repeated in Hans van Manen's Solo.
Showcasing the youthful dancers as they pass along a virtual conveyer belt, the set-pieces speed up as the dance-off becomes more competitive.
Egged on by whoops from the audience, the energy marks a delightfully unexpected contrast to the traditional nature of the score by Bach.
Both of these pieces are bright and dynamic but the most impressive and consistently structured overall is Paul Lightfoot and Sol Leon's Studio 2.
The use of a ramp and carefully rotated giant mirror question who or what the audience should be watching as reflections give the illusion of far more dancers being on the stage than there are in reality.
The illusion is echoed in the dancing partners, who contort their bodies so that the torso of one seemingly lines up with the legs of another in a real life version of Exquisite Corpse.
Set to a haunting Arvo Part score, there's a spiritual element in the choreography as dancers throw open their arms in the shape of a cross and lie curled up on the floor, covering their eyes in suffering.
Duos appear again in Hans van Manen's Deja Vu, which beautifully combines classical with contemporary dance.
Together with the other pieces it not only showcases the first-class dancers, it offers too a brilliantly accessible introduction to modern dance.