Tango Fire at the Peacock Theatre.
If you’re feeling a bit sensitive about ingrained gender roles, or perhaps a tad angry about the patriarchy and its pussy-grabbing, then Tango Fire might be something of an aggravation. Watching it is an odd experience. While the technical pyrotechnics on display are often flabbergasting, there’s a pervasive sense of grossness about it all. Tango is a couple’s dance that arose from the late 19th century slums of Argentina and was subsequently banned for its perceived obscenity. It’s all about sex and machismo – it’d be silly to expect this form of movement to be inherently enlightened. After all, it’s a type of dance in which the male is designated the ‘leader’ and the woman is his ‘follower.’
Tango Fire promises the burning passions and sizzling seductions of Buenos Aires – but it has all the eroticism and subtlety of a flasher lurking in a grubby trench coat down a back alley in Stoke-on-Trent. Much of this has to do with the German Cornejo’s exhibitively acrobatic choreography. Male dancers fling the women aloft into helicopter spins, or whirl them around by an arm and a leg like a farmer with a new-born calf. It’s all gasp-inducing, and while nothing goes noticeably wrong, these feats aren’t always executed elegantly. Cornejo and his partner Gisela Galeassi are the stand-out pair in terms of sultry good looks and professional poise, but there are other performers whose technique lacks a certain control and finesse. As such we see a lot of gusset and undercarriage, and I’m not sure if it’s always entirely deliberate.
Some of the spread-eagling is most certainly premeditated though, particularly in a group number towards the end of the show in which the women strut out in little sequinned hot pants and swoosh their loose hair around orgiastically. The men, meanwhile, huddle together and leer at them appreciatively. As well as the hot pants, there are other dire costume choices that go way beyond the category of ‘skimpy’ and into a hellish sartorial hinterland of their own. I don’t think there can be any justification for a sheer, taupe-coloured bodystocking that just about covers the nipples and vagina with a few strategically embroidered green sequins. Spare a thought for Victoria Saudelli. Sporting this thing, the dancer resembles an unfortunate mermaid who’s been dragged from her watery home to perform on-board a cruise ship captained by Robin Thicke (with Piers Morgan as cabin boy).
Much of the technique in Tango Fire is dazzling – there are all the scissoring kicks and flicks and ganchos to make Len Goodman weep an appreciative tear. It’s just a shame about the seediness.
Tango Fire is on at the Peacock Theatre until 18th February 2017. Click here for more details.
