That's Amore @ NAC
Back in 2003 everybody's favourite body positivity champions Abercrombie & Fitch asked Slavoj Zizek to provide some words of wisdom for the adverts in their 'Back to School' catalogue. There's a singular page that comes rushing back through my memory and sticks there as I sit and watch the events of That's Amore unfold before me. Emblazoned across a photograph of a barely concealed crotch is this thought: 'Is it not clear that we really make love with signs, not with bodies? This is why one has to go to school to learn sex'. That's Amore, a production from the Tmesis Theatre performed by the quartet of Adam Davies, Eleni Edipidi, Jennifer Essex, and Ross McCall sets itself up as an examination of romantic culture in our modern world and its most potent message is along the same lines as that of the Slovenian philosopher, exploring the social, instructed nature of romance as we know it.'Physical theatre' is a term that sets many of us on edge but what I feared might be a distant, overindulgent or - dare I say it - pretentious beast turned out to be an experience of remarkable powerful, intelligence, beauty, and humour. A journey through differing forms and stages of love starts off working through animalistic lust, timid encounters and nights on the town all played out with an impressive range of physicality. It hits stride during its two most thought-provoking sections. In the first iconic scenes from romantic films over the past thirty years are reenacted with a nod and a wink, an exemplification of the way in which our love narratives are inscribed in popular culture and are known to us long before we can discover them for ourselves. This is how one loves. These are the rules. The second is a moment of uneasy but effective jocularity in which Mccall's suited persona attempts to spice up a stagnant relationship (what could display this sterility better than Edipidi's hoovering partner?) but ends up stood alone in pink boxer shorts and clutching a giant teddybear; a comedic figure juxtaposed against a recognisable and harrowing reality where the security of familiarity has transformed into the fetters of complacency.There is an excellent balance between the laughs and the darkness which both spring forth with immediacy and authenticity, and at all times the foursome remain utterly engaging, endlessly watchable. Intricate, subtle movements fill the stage with as much character as the bold bodily contortions whilst a narrative from above pulls us through the transitions nicely. It's funny, furious, and enthralling, with a finale that will either seem warmingly optimistic or deceptively sinister depending on your standpoint. Whichever way you lean it endures as a worthy watch. If you want something smart, slick, and cynically uplifting, you won't be disappointed.
