October 12, 2010
It’s a long time since I read ‘The Red Shoes’ and I wasn’t sure how it ended and having seen the show I’m still not sure. The many twists in the story of the Girl take us through emotional and symbolic milestones of life. The red gashes on her white frock become a total full on rushing flood of a blood red silk dress. The sexy clumpy wooden clog dancing becomes impossible for the Girl once the butcher has hacked off the red shoes of desire after making a prick with his knife. The Girl is left to struggle on to heaven or hell as she sees fit. She has to decide where she prefers. So the crux of the matter is whether she can resist the obsession with the Red Shoes. This obsession leads her to a callous act of rebellion that begins the show. Early on, she kicks the kindly Old Woman who has taken care of her into the kerb in order to wear red shoes. The blind Old Woman stipulates the Girl wears black shoes that steam with sexual innocence and blend in nicely at church.
Inside this irreverent 90 minute show a lot of contemporary truth has been imported from the barns of Cornwall where Kneehigh devise their work. The Vicar’s neglected wife sees work as her only salvation and suggests the Girl picks up the broom and does the same. Throughout the show however, the magic of the ensemble (that includes Robbie Lucksay, Mike Shepherd, Giles King, Patrycja Kujawska, Dave Mynne, Ian Ross and Stu Barker) keeps the red shoes alive as sensual objects to be craved. In spite of being shot of the red shoes the Girl succumbs at the end to her fascination with them. Even though the shoes cause her pain she feels a yearning for them. This sparks the idea that it is not wise to let go of a situation until you have learnt something from it.
Kneehigh’s sensational show is directed by Emma Rice and is for people who ordinarily may be left numb by theatre. The lulling rustic storytelling will enchant everyone and as the narrator promises whilst standing proud on Bill Mitchell’s design of a free-standing metal frame, the audience are taken on a journey. This piece of work has ‘Made in Cornwall’ stamped all over it. Performances of honesty, clarity and bravery have the kick of salt on the back of the tongue typical of a brisk Cornish morning. The characters have been worn down to their bare bones like the rugged coastline ironically leaving in place a convincing idiosyncratic style where donning white underpants and vest makes absolute sense. This is a night of pure individuality. At the bar I see middle-aged ladies proudly showing off their chunky red heels.
Watching the Kneehigh ensemble later taking a post show drink undisturbed by their new fans it is clear that the magic they have manufactured is held tight inside the story. As the warmth of these theatrical poets light up the bar the last few audience members leaving the building want the sparkle to live anonymously in their imaginations, unchanged, making the story sensation a personal experience. I would guess this generous ensemble would have it no other way.
Inside this irreverent 90 minute show a lot of contemporary truth has been imported from the barns of Cornwall where Kneehigh devise their work. The Vicar’s neglected wife sees work as her only salvation and suggests the Girl picks up the broom and does the same. Throughout the show however, the magic of the ensemble (that includes Robbie Lucksay, Mike Shepherd, Giles King, Patrycja Kujawska, Dave Mynne, Ian Ross and Stu Barker) keeps the red shoes alive as sensual objects to be craved. In spite of being shot of the red shoes the Girl succumbs at the end to her fascination with them. Even though the shoes cause her pain she feels a yearning for them. This sparks the idea that it is not wise to let go of a situation until you have learnt something from it.
Kneehigh’s sensational show is directed by Emma Rice and is for people who ordinarily may be left numb by theatre. The lulling rustic storytelling will enchant everyone and as the narrator promises whilst standing proud on Bill Mitchell’s design of a free-standing metal frame, the audience are taken on a journey. This piece of work has ‘Made in Cornwall’ stamped all over it. Performances of honesty, clarity and bravery have the kick of salt on the back of the tongue typical of a brisk Cornish morning. The characters have been worn down to their bare bones like the rugged coastline ironically leaving in place a convincing idiosyncratic style where donning white underpants and vest makes absolute sense. This is a night of pure individuality. At the bar I see middle-aged ladies proudly showing off their chunky red heels.
Watching the Kneehigh ensemble later taking a post show drink undisturbed by their new fans it is clear that the magic they have manufactured is held tight inside the story. As the warmth of these theatrical poets light up the bar the last few audience members leaving the building want the sparkle to live anonymously in their imaginations, unchanged, making the story sensation a personal experience. I would guess this generous ensemble would have it no other way.