The Sun does not rise

The Sun does not rise

Robert Tanitch reviews Sun at Sadler’s Wells, London EC1

Those who saw Hofesh Schecter’s amazing Political Mother, a marriage of dance and rock concert  at Sadler’s Wells in 2011, are going to be bitterly disappointed by Shecter’s latest spin-off.

Sun, we are told in a guttural voice-over, is a simple and extremely loud and noisy story of good and evil, black and white, light and dark.

There is folk-dancing, Dervish swirling and goose-steps. The cast run around. There is music by Wagner, Irving Berlin and bagpipes. There is raw conflict, brute force, frenzied suffering and chaos. Things continue in the dark and half-dark. There are screams, hysterical laughter and cardboard sheep. No animals are harmed.

Hofesh Shecter’s Sun turns out to be a pretentious Human Rights polemic on oppression, invasion, murder, rape and colonialism. Its 105 minutes have none of the extraordinary power and exhilarating excitement of Political Mother.

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