Grupo Corpo, Sadler's Wells, London

Much grunting and bouncing but the ideas have run out after five minutes

Well, they're persistent. The Brazilian dance company Grupo Corpo, touring Britain this month, presents two works by their resident choreographer Rodrigo Pederneiras. In the first, the dancers spring along to a sampled pop soundtrack. The second is a series of ballroom duets. Each time, Pederneiras runs out of ideas in the first five minutes. He keeps his dancers going for another half-hour or more.

Well, they're persistent. The Brazilian dance company Grupo Corpo, touring Britain this month, presents two works by their resident choreographer Rodrigo Pederneiras. In the first, the dancers spring along to a sampled pop soundtrack. The second is a series of ballroom duets. Each time, Pederneiras runs out of ideas in the first five minutes. He keeps his dancers going for another half-hour or more.

In "O Corpo", a Brazilian pop artist, Arnaldo Antunes, layers sounds and rhythms into thumping, repetitive patterns. There are gasps, heartbeats, waves coming in and out, a deep voice intoning words. The dancers rock back and forth in time to it.

The dancers of Grupo Corpo are springy performers, and they need to be. Pederneiras keeps them bouncing throughout the piece. They roll on the spot, hop forwards kicking their legs high, shuffle and spring again. One man shuffles across the stage, one hop at a time, with a small woman wrapped round one of his arms. Another group lies on the floor, pushing themselves up with repeated frog-legged kicks.

That's really it: the soundtrack grunts and the dancers bounce. Pelvises grind and limbs waggle. Behind them, a backdrop by Paulo Pederneiras lights up with squares of red. Freusa Zechmeister and Fernando Velloso dress the dancers in ruched nylon shorts and leggings over black body tights: half-Hamlet, half eighties revival, complete with Goth eyeliner.

"Lecuona" promised more variety. It's set to songs by the Cuban songwriter Ernesto Lecuona: tangos, waltzes, rumbas, all in gorgeous old recording. They're lushly romantic, overflowing with dance rhythms, sung with passionate intensity. By the end of the first song, it's clear that these will be ballroom dances without the dancing.

These songs deserve swooning torsos and knife-edge footwork, but Pederneiras just barges his way through them. A single couple dance a rumba, with footwork. Though they're hectic and strained, it's the best dance of the night.

The other duets are all manhandling, with scrabbling lifts. There's no footwork: the women barely touch the ground. Men are there to lug them about.

Pederneiras favours a supported jump, the woman repeatedly hopped into the air long enough to kick her legs, flailing like a rag doll. There's a lot of knicker gusset on display.

In another favourite lift, women are hoisted aloft by the scruff of the neck. I'm not sure this choreographer even notices how brutal that looks: half of those yanked lifts end in embraces while others end with a woman bent double, her partner's hips shoved up against her buttocks.

For the last number, several couples whirl on, waltzing against a mirrored backdrop before sinking into embraces for the final curtain. And guess what? Every single man has his partner by the neck.