EIF Review: Assembly Hall

The Annual General Meeting of a Medieval re-enactment society isn’t the most obvious subject for a piece of cutting-edge interpretive dance cum physical theatre, but that is precisely what Vancouver’s lauded Kidd Pivot has brought to the Edinburgh International Festival.

Now, all drama needs tension, and the stellar directing team of writer Jonathan Young and choreographer Crystal Pite find this in mounting debts and warring factions. One group wants to close it down, whilst another will never say die, and then there’s Dave (Gregory Lau) who is down to abstain.

Revisiting a technique seen in several Kidd Pivot productions, including the 2019 ‘Revisor’, Pite and Young have their cadre of outstanding dancers flawlessly lip-sync to a pre-recorded dialogue track. The audience ends up with the best of both worlds: excellent voice acting and superlative physical excellence.

That’s no overstatement either, the quality of every single movement is remarkable. Whether singly or en masse, these world-class dancers make every moment eye-catching, be it a single point of order, or a battle royale complete with swords, spears and waving banners. Deliciously exaggerated gestures bring physical comedy to their disagreements, whilst there’s an electric precision to their flights of choreographic magic.

However, narratively and thematically, there’s just far too much packed into 90 minutes of wild fantasy, and vague social commentary. For just as the ‘Parks and Recreation ‘style social comedy has introduced the characters and their conflict, Assembly Hall leaps off an abstract, fantastical cliff.

Not only do we follow Dave’s surprisingly mythical journey from passivity to main-character energy, but we dive into the weird and wonderful world of the ‘Forsaken Assembly’ doomed to never agree, and run by a committee deep in violent, rather murderous existential crises.

Consequently, much of Assembly Hall is taken up by masterful solos, duets and company choreographies without advancing any clear argument or plot. Sure, the committee chair is now a despotic king, complete with a towering crown, but is there more we’re meant to take from this?

Assembly Hall is always gorgeous to watch and laden with emotion and feeling. Yet what the show is trying to say about heroism or loss, fear or hope, community spirit and individual responsibility never fully crystalises.

It’s a pity because Lau makes a superb everyman hero, and his big battle scene produces some of the finest conflict choreography I’ve ever seen on stage. Similarly, when shifted into her fantastical alter-ego Renée Sigouin channels Japanese Horror and the Lady of Shallot with an amazing palette of body manipulation and physical expression.

When Assembly Hall wants to be funny it is, and that’s no mean feat when it comes to dance. Armoured battles to the death may not seem like laugh-fests to you, but boy can it be thanks to this talented group.

But…does Dave rise from the dead at the beginning of the play, and what does that mean? My enquiring mind would like to know, and the closing voice-over from some other entity didn’t help me very much. Mysteries are good for theatre, but you can have too much of a good thing.

That aside, Assembly Hall is a gorgeous, and frequently funny watch. Jay Gower Taylor‘s set gives a towering, mouldering community hall before its curtained stage opens to reveal something quite different. Tom Visser’s lighting is sensational, bringing clarity and mood to the shadier moments, and dazzling mysticism to the big set pieces. Owen Belton, Alessandro Juliani & Meg Roe’s sound design is meticulous, a palimpsest of music, natural and synthesized sound, and more.

Everything about Assembly Hall screams world-class, except for the fiction holding it together. Audiences will doubtlessly emerge impressed…and scratching their heads.

Featured Image: Michael Slobodian