Tocororo, Sadler's Wells, London
Mix of sugar and pure corn leaves sour taste
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.Love and self-belief will conquer all. Tocororo, the show choreographed by the Cuban ballet star Carlos Acosta, makes a brightly naive confection. Acosta drew on his own life for this story of a country boy in the big city but his staging is pure corn. Even the knife fight has a stage-school eagerness.
Love and self-belief will conquer all. Tocororo, the show choreographed by the Cuban ballet star Carlos Acosta, makes a brightly naive confection. Acosta drew on his own life for this story of a country boy in the big city but his staging is pure corn. Even the knife fight has a stage-school eagerness.
Tocororo was a big hit at its premiere last year: Acosta's stardom and the promise of Cuban rhythms, carried all before them. Acosta has tweaked this revival a little but he hasn't toughened anything up.
The show is a celebration of Acosta's roots, and it wears its Cuban identity on its sleeve. The fuzzy photographs of Salvatore Forino's set show a countryside shack, back alleys and Havana avenues. There's one of those rounded Cuban cars onstage, and the leader of the city kids smokes a big cigar. Miguel Oez's music is the stickiest West End schmaltz, but it's played by a Cuban band.
Tocororo, the naive young hero, sets off for the city to make his fortune. When he gets there, he's mocked for his dancing - this untrained boy has somehow grown up with a clean classical style, and can't adapt his arabesques and tours en l'air to fit in with breakdancing.
One of the young women, danced by Veronica Corveas, takes pity on him, and takes him off to consult a wise woman, a speaking role played by Mireya Chapman. After consulting "the African gods", she tells him that "the only person who can help you is you". Thus strengthened, he works on his dancing, and wows the city folk by mixing salsa and ballet fireworks.
The fireworks are certainly there. Acosta throws off barrel turns and multiple turns with sunny ease. His energy carries the evening, but he barely challenges himself. As star choreographers go, he's remarkably unselfish; his co-stars have plenty of solo opportunities.
The strutting street dances, though, are a disappointment. Alexander Varona, as the rival, teeters about with stiff hips and pigeon toes. The simplest corps dances are the best - hips sway and shoulders shake with real energy. Then we return to the plot, and to the production's earnestly optimistic message. The moral is about staying true to yourself but this production never makes that a painful decision. The love scenes have swooping lifts and sentimental embraces, but little sexual charge.
It's left to the dancers to lift the evening and they do their best with the rest.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments