A Review of Gary Clarke’s Detention

There is a beautiful scene in the rather questionable Netflix series Sense 8 in which Nomi attends a dance performance during Pride and walks out in tears. I was reminded of this scene this evening as I watched Gary Clarke’s Detention, a very moving and captivating piece of dance based on the queer experience of 1980s Britain under Section 28. Over the span of an hour and half, a series of scenes bring to life different experiences from different age groups, stitching together a comprehensive picture of the times. For those of you familiar with this blog, you will know that I’m often reticent to review dance, feeling that this sits far outside the remits of my experience. However, on this occasion I will make an exception.

Upon entering the auditorium, audiences are faced with a banner which displays some rather harsh choices of words against a deep red lighting pre-state. This instant immersion into a world of violence and cruelty sets a precedent for a show that certainly doesn’t pull its punches or provide much of a reprieve. This is an intense ninety minutes and that is no mistake. But it is this bombardment of harsh realities that brings emotions to the surface as an audience member and has you feeling more than a little shellshocked as you leave. Each of the dancers is incredible, bringing the stories to life with so much emotion. I would love to highlight certain members and moments but the programme has chosen to group them all together under the simple heading of ‘dancers’, reminding audiences that although each is individual it is only through their cohesiveness as a unit that we truly find magic. Gary Clarke’s choreography is phenomenal. There is no other way to describe this incredible piece of theatre, which is flawlessly executed from beginning to end. I could spend many words dissecting the impact and intricacies of the performance, and certainly would love to, but will move as in some ways there is absolutely nothing to say.

As for the stage itself, lighting designer Joshie Harriette’s use of stage level lighting is an atmospheric choice which is completed through the use of side lighting and the occasional spotlight. These choices bring a sense of immersion into a space that is constantly morphing; one minute a black canvas, the next a classroom, the next a call centre. The sets are simple but always effective, the banners and Ryan Dawson Laight’s costumes bringing flavour and life onto the stage. The standout moments were not the ensemble dances, for me, but rather the moments in which the narrator multi rolled as different callers to the gay and lesbian switchboard, each of them pouring out their hearts while these hearts were personified through dance. This being said, the use of projection and video needs a definitely shoutout as a unique, hilarious and somewhat trippy addition… to say any more would definitely spoil it!

This is a perfect piece of emotive dance, drawn together through well placed narration from Lewey Hellewell. The music itself weaves together a wonderful array of different genres, including some Welsh choral voices, to create a backdrop that works seamlessly with the staging to support the dancers and help to bring the vision to life. I will say that the somewhat didactic ending felt a little preachy, given how clear the message was throughout, but I can understand that it must have been difficult to design a natural ending to such a piece. The run of this show in Oxford has unfortunately come to an end, but I wholeheartedly recommend trying to see if it you get the chance. It is a piece which has certainly solidified itself a reputation as being both poignant and a must see.