STOMP

It’s been nine years since STOMP last played in South Africa, and I still remember how brilliant it was.

Nothing has changed. Well, literally speaking a couple of the routines are new and the cast has certainly revolved, but its essence, exuberance and overall excellence still reverberate right off the stage and into your heart. It hits your face too, and you’ll be smiling with delight and admiration for how brooms and boxes of matches can sound so magical.

STOMP is the illiterate rebel son in the family of musicals. There are no songs or spoken words, just funny, satisfying and sometimes quite complex melodies made by a bunch of acrobatic dancers dressed like young ruffians that you’d cross the street to avoid.

The entire show is based on sounds made from household implements or the human body, and it’s quite incredible how many different noises these human music machines can generate. In the synchronised saucepan-banging Olympics these guys would be gold medallists.

What’s equally impressive is the style within each routine, where they’re remembering to tap dance as they hit the objects or bounce the balls before lobbing them to each other. Nobody misses a beat or mistimes the shoving of a shopping trolley.

But like anything that looks so casually improvised there’s a long history of hard work involved. STOMP was devised in the UK in 1991 by Luke Cresswell and Steve McNicholas, and one of the original crew members, Fraser Morrison, is now the casting director. He jokes that the show evolved through blood, sweat and beers, with the original crew making things up as they went along and warming up before a performance with cigarettes and booze.

Most of the iconic routines have remained, like the dustbin-banging finale where the lids are used as shields and one of the crew looks like a mad muppet as he hammers on drums made out of plastic barrels.

Over the years new objects have been introduced – like some plastic tubing whose technical name escapes me - after exploring all the sounds they can make and adding theatricality by chucking them around. “It’s not just about knocking the shit out of something,” as Fraser eloquently puts it.

It’s oozing with that careless professionalism you only get by hours spent honing the nonchalant shrug, or the perfectly placed row of shopping trolleys so they can all be swept away at once.

The cast of eight is drawn from a touring crew of 12, so you can’t work out from the programme who you’re watching. On my evening the nerdy guy with glasses took one of the best roles, playing the outlier who’s not quite in with the gang. The one who gets overlooked or arrives as the others are leaving. It’s a fabulous part and he’s perfect for it. Cammie Griffin also stands out as a sassy dancer, a Massachusetts kid who must have Zulu blood running through her. She’s mesmerising, weaving in a wonderfully powerful but sexy style as she beats the tubes, pounds the drums or knocks the life out of a giant inner tube.

Often the magic lies in the minutia and the little quirks they add to the showmanship – the comic gestures or the hilarious way they dive inside a bin bag to extract another piece of junk that reveals secret rhythms. The grander gestures are impressive too, like suspending the dancers on rigging to make music by battering a wall full of industrial junk under atmospheric spotlights.

Perhaps the best routine is in the dark, when the crew play with Zippo lighters to make music illuminated by the flames. The choreography for that son et lumière – if choreography isn’t too large a word for flicking on a lighter – is superb.

STOMP is funny, inventive, and utterly delightfully. The only down side was seeing some empty seats in the theatre, because this deserves full houses every night.

STOMP runs at Montecasino’s Teatro until September 8 then Cape Town’s Artscape from September 10 – 15. Tickets from Computicket.