Tuesday 12th – Sunday 17 January 2010@Festival Theatre
Take eight people, three brooms, four boxes of matches and a newspaper and it doesn’t really sound like a winning formula, but throw some bins lids into the mix and that’s exactly what you got. Stomp. Fast and furious. Taking everyday objects slapping them about a bit and turning them into things of musical beauty, they’ve even got the kitchen sink in there.
The performers are slick, lean percussion machines, with one click of the fingers they can change the mood and the tone. It’s impressive stuff as they speed around their apocalyptic wasteland of a set, there’s no doubt about that, it’s gentle in places, thunderous in others and strangely amusing. But the problem with Stomp is that is just has a little bit of an eighties shoulder pad type feel about it all – and sadly they have been around for a while. When Stomp first burst amazingly into the performance scene, back in the early 90s it was a total assault of the senses, like nothing we’d seen before. Putting the impossible into perfect percussion. But now, it seems disappointingly tired and dated, we’ve seen and heard it all before and there’s only so many things you can do with a comedy head torch.
It’s an entertaining watch and who doesn’t enjoy clapping, stomping, and snapping along to eight people on stage banging bins. It’s one noisy night out. Although remember, what goes on at the theatre stays in the theatre, don’t try this at home. No really don’t try this at home the neighbours are liable to complain…or set fire to you.
I think it depends on what you mean by “seen it all before”. I have seen Stomp twice, once in Leeds and once in New York; I was just as impressed on both occasions. However there were clearly audience members who weren’t expecting it; they were after something a little more put-together, perhaps with a story line, something that Germaine Greer could review.
If you can get past that element, you’ll enjoy the show. If you don’t you end up questioning the ‘substance’ and ‘depth’ of a man with a sink wrapped his neck. It’s not the show that makes a show, it’s the audience.