It’s an exciting recipe: take the plot of a Hollywood movie of the 1940s, twist it a little, and set it to the music of an opera of the 1870s, and turn up the volume. Add more than a pinch of homo-eroticism. That The Car Man owes much to The Postman Always Rings Twice and to Bizet’s Carmen is clear, but the resulting heady mixture is pure Matthew Bourne. The setting is 1950s USA in a small town optimistically called ‘Harmony’ that has almost certainly seen better days. Think of a less glossy and much less innocent version of the town in American Graffiti. There’s a diner, a gas station/repair shop, a bunch of strapping young mechanics, their pretty girlfriends, and it’s stickily hot. There’s more sexual tension in the air than you can shake a stick at.
Unprepossessingly sweaty Dino owns both diner and repair shop, but he’s struggling to control Lana, his attractive and serially flirtatious wife. Under the red neon of Dino’s Diner a handwritten sign reads ‘Man Wanted’, but when a man arrives in town in the muscular form of a drifter called Luca he turns out to be the answer to Lana’s prayers, not Dino’s. Lana and Luca waste very little time on the normal courtesies, and their wild and steamy affair inspires all the other youngsters to shed their inhibitions too. All, that is, except for Lana’s much more cautious sister, Rita, who is conducting a tentative romance with Angelo, a shy lad who is mercilessly teased by his more macho workmates. Then Dino discovers what Lana has been up to, and what follows is a violent and passionate tale of murder, injustice and revenge, told entirely through the medium of dance.
Since its first performances in 2000 The Car Man has become justly famous for its energetic and unrestrained sexuality, but there are also quieter and subtler scenes of tenderness and poignancy, particularly between Rita and Angelo, that are among the most memorable moments in the show. Katy Lowenhoff gives Rita a touching vulnerability, while Dominic North skillfully conveys Angelo’s transition from hapless victim to grim avenger. Lez Brotherston has designed a clever set that seamlessly takes us from gas station to nightclub to jail, and even to a two-car joyride on the open road. Composer Terry Davies has taken Rodlon Shchedrin’s 40-minute orchestration of themes from Carmen as a starting point and has expanded it into something akin to Bizet on steroids: loud, but undeniably exciting.
Matthew Bourne has found extraordinarily imaginative and often witty ways to convey this story. Indeed, at times the choreography is almost too inventive, too busy, and there are times in the first half when so much is happening that it is not always clear on which part of the stage to focus attention. Putting such minor reservations aside, the standing ovation that this re-imagined version of Carmen received on its first night at the Bristol Hippodrome is a clear indication that Bourne presses all the right buttons for a great many people. The Car Man is brilliant dance-theatre. Don’t miss it. ★★★★★ Mike Whitton 20/05/15
Photos by Chris Mann
