Table service: Cordelia Braithwaite and Will Bozer. Photos: Johan Persson
Loosely based on the opera Carmen, and using Bizet’s score as inspiration, Matthew Bourne’s sultry ballet The Car Man is an exciting version of that tale of seduction and murder. Instead of Seville, the action is set in the 1950s, in a dusty little US town called (ironically) Harmony and in a garage owned by Dino (Danny Reubens), who has an adjoining diner.
A prominent sign outside the diner advertises ‘Man Wanted’, and that man soon appears in the form of Luca (Will Bozer) who is taken on by Dino, already established as overbearing and a bit of a bully. And it takes no time at all for Luca to take a proprietorial shine to Dino’s wife Lina (Cordelia Braithwaite). And there is one love/lust triangle established. One? First performed in 2000, The Car Man was the first narrative dance piece to feature a bisexual protagonist. Luca also takes Angelo (Leonardo McCorkindale) under his wing (well, not so much wing as well-muscled chest).
This is not a ballet for the classicists. Originally billed ‘an auto-erotic thriller’, it’s full on steamy with its sexual frenzy, murder, and male prison assaults. No Sugar Plum fairies here, so leave the kids at home.
It’s also a bit of a mash-up of genres, bringing to mind West Side Story (all those swishing full skirts) and The Postman Always Rings Twice. The opening number, against Lez Brotherston’s set design (complete with cars) and the workmanlike clothing of the dancers, is redolent of a musical rather than a ballet (without the singing, natch).
The ‘mechanics’ are as lithe and limber as one would expect from a ballet corps and changing tyres and engine oil may never be the same. There’s even a shower scene.
The dancing is spectacular throughout. And in a twist (for those familiar with the opera), it is Luca who shows off his prowess to the music of the famous aria ‘Habanera’; and it is indeed Luca of whom everyone should beware.
No real spoilers here to say Dino comes to a sticky (and bloody) end, courtesy of Luca and Lina, but they allow Angelo to take the blame – much to the chagrin and confusion of his sweet and faithful girlfriend Rita (Kurumi Kamayachi), who brings a little innocence and light into this dark tale.
In the next Act, we see the murderous couple happy and unhappy in a cabaret scene (Brotherston transforms the garage into Le Beat-Route nightclub), which allows for a very entertaining and amusing (albeit a somewhat bizarre inclusion) French-style mime scene, three dancers all clad in black.
It’s a good contrast to the gaol scenes, which are bleak but marvellously choreographed, with imaginative use of shackles and suchlike as Angelo suffers yet again. Chris Davey’s lighting makes everything grey and dreamlike (make that nightmarish). Dino makes a comeback, bloodied – a sort of Banquo’s ghost – and this is one of the many scenes where the story is told, or revealed to Rita in this instance, by dance.
The concluding scenes, back in Harmony, keep up the tension. It’s no wonder this work has been staged numerous times. It’s not often that a ballet can be described as sultry and steamy, but this one can be. Well worth seeing if you get the chance.
