Strictly Dandia, King's Theatre, Edinburgh Festival
This thin offering is strictly amateur fare
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Savagely murdered by its own hype, Strictly Dandia is most certainly not what it's drummed up to be. If there were "high passions, bare flesh, sectarian tension and hormones running rampant" in Tamasha Theatre's latest dance-drama, based on the inter-caste boils erupting upon a religious Hindu dance festival, they passed me by.
And in case the word "erupts" suggests some sort of spontaneous action, or even surface interest, let's just say that the meagre storyline and skeletal production could have been better devised and scripted by a bunch of teenagers.
Dismally thin in content and disastrously naive in style Strictly Dandia must represent a nadir of the Edinburgh's official Festival theatre programme and would scarcely pass muster on the Fringe.
Suman Bhuchar's idea is great - a show set among the Gujerati community of Wembley against the backdrop of the Navratri festival, based on the pressures of competing in the Dandi Rass stick dance competition. But these nine celebratory nights of dancing, heralding the beginning of Diwali, are meant to be fun, lively and, dare I suggest it, dramatic. So how on earth could the normally inventive and imaginative Tamasha Theatre - think East is East and Balti Kings - have produced something so unsophisticated, under-rehearsed, unfocused and underwhelming?
The colourful rivalries and sexual jealousies supposedly contained in this traditional festival amount here to little more than clunky dialogue, a few moderately stirring dance routines and a storyline spun out of flim-flam.
When the radio mikes worked (a secret weapon reserved until the second half) it was possible to follow at least some of the not very original or funny lines. The minimalist production looked as if it had been conceived for touring, a poor relation dropping by in the final week of a tired Festival.
There's potential here and I only hope that a producer with some flair gets their hands on it before it's seen again in public.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments