Lord Of The Dance – Dangerous Games

It’s 20 years since we fell under the spell of Riverdance. The charm of Bill Whelan’s Celtic score for a small group of traditional musicians, the simplicity of the cultural costumes, the spiritual story of how the river takes the dance to the ocean and across the sea, coupled with the “Clannad” like harmonies of the songs, was breathtaking. And then there was the dancing, such dancing…and the charisma and talent of Michael Flatley. Such was his flair that we didn’t care at all that he wasn’t Irish, but a Chicago-born American. He dazzled. But we were soon reminded of his origins when he appeared to take “Nothing succeeds like excess” as a mantra. The excess has been growing exponentially over the years, and this show is its zenith.

Dangerous Games is spectacular in the way that Las Vegas is spectacular, that Avatar is spectacular, that Gordon Ramsay destroying a kitchen full of apprentice chefs is spectacular. You want to turn away, but you’re a prisoner. The excesses have to be seen to be believed. Garish CGI animation with colours that hurt the eyes, pyrotechnics, bits of magic, acrobatics, Unicorns wandering under waterfalls, an ice palace where I expected Marlon Brando to appear (Superman), real fire, pre-recorded music, over the top lighting, semi-pornographic writhing of scantily clad girls….  and that’s without the moon-walking and break-dancing and exercise gear. The list goes on to the point that some people around me were actually laughing. Oh, and there’s a cliché of a story which is somehow meant to justify the Storm Troopers with flashlight green eyes, and even a bit of pantomime in “mending” a magic flute. The show is an homage to crassness, and it almost destroys the wonder of the dance. Almost, but not quite.

30+ amazing dancers give us the truth of Irish dancing with all its precision, its beats, its uniformity. It’s only when the dancing is allowed to show its truth, sometimes without accompaniment, that the audience erupts. THIS is what we want, what we’re waiting for. It doesn’t matter that 4 or 5 of the ensemble numbers appear to have been taken directly from the original Riverdance. Only pedants like me would remember step for step anyway. Morgan Comer (Lord of the Dance) and Tom Cunningham (Dark Lord) are sensational dancers – the equal of Flatley at his best. But Comer is not Flatley – not bombastic. His strength is a boyish charm, and yet he is forced to adopt every one of Flatley’s mannerisms. On him, the haranguing of the audience into a standing ovation seemed ill-fitting and embarrassing. One of his routines appears to be one of Flatley’s own solos from Riverdance, and Comer isn’t helped by the pre-recorded tap beats.

For those who never saw Riverdance…or those who are new to the genre, this might all seem like magic. My grandfather was a Lancashire clog dancer, my mother a hoofer – both linked to Irish dance, and I am half Irish. I thrilled to every traditional step as my soul was being irreparably damaged by what surrounded it. To add insult to injury, Flatley appears with his son at the opening as a hologram and there’s film of him spruiking how brilliant the show is in the manner of PT Barnum. At the end of the night, when the dancers have given their all, THREE of him appear dancing on screen, as if to show the world how HE does it. Now worth more than half a billion dollars, it’s sad that Flatley never learned the adage “Less is More”.

Coral Drouyn