Tap Dogs, Novello Theatre, London

Zo Anderson
Thursday 17 June 2010 00:00 BST
Comments
(PA)

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.

A spotlight picks out Adam Garcia on the industrial set of Tap Dogs, dressed in jeans and heavy work boots.

He stamps out a tap riff, and another. The steps aren't that interesting, but Garcia ends with a big, applause-getting "ta-dah!" gesture. It works, but it's more about the package than the dancing.

Tap Dogs was created by its original leading man, Dein Perry, in 1995. It's a post-Stomp dance show, with dancers in pointedly everyday clothes, thumping rhythms out of the metal platforms and girders of Nigel Triffitt's set. But Tap Dogs can't match the genuinely complex rhythms of Stomp. Instead, its cast make a point of being regular Australian blokes: the taps on those work boots are supposed to be a surprise.

Fifteen years on, Tap Dogs is still an efficient show. It moves briskly from routine to routine, bringing in props from flashlights steelworking tools that send out flurries of sparks. The six male dancers play stock character types: Garcia (a regular judge on Sky1's Got to Dance) as the foreman, Richie Miller as the idealistic kid. Two women thump out percussion from a raised platform at the back of the stage.

Some routines are stronger. In the basketball dance, the balls thump alongside the stamping feet, rhythms getting more interesting as they time the bounces, throws and catches. When the men stamp through trays of water, they wink to the front row – who have been provided with plastic macs, and need them.

In an encore, the dancers step carefully along and between girders, jumping up and across the raised platforms. On press night, Garcia slipped on this one – and acknowledged it by dipping a sweetly rueful curtsy to the crowd, before jumping back into action. It's a reminder that these performers can be more spontaneous, and more fun, than the Tap Dogs framework has much room for.

To 5 September (0844 482 5170)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in