The characters crumple when they can no longer maintain a happy facade — aptly demonstrated as the six dancers pose again and again on and behind the sofa for a “family portrait,” with the three on the sofa sliding off it to the floor and the other three collapsing as soon as the picture is taken each time, only to regroup and try again.
People talk, but no one appears to be really listening. There is a lot of shouting as well. One dancer, pacifier in her mouth and doll clutched to her chest, spends much of the final minutes hiding, crouched under the dinner table — but only after repeating the violence she sees around her by abusing the doll.
In between the punching there is some great choreography, with an emotional breather provided by the six dancers pairing off for some cha-cha-cha-ing.
The casting was exceptional, with strong performances from Yu Yen-fang (余彥芳), Ku Chu-ying (古竺穎), Lu Chen-hsuan (廖宸萱), Uma He (何姿瑩), Ray Yeh (葉百恂) and Chang Chih-kai (張志凱).
As disturbing as it was to watch Yeh and Chang slap, strangle or pound the women’s heads into the floor, I was disappointed when the stage went black. The actual choreography was great and I wanted more.