'Smooth' is the right word for the moves Crazy' has brought to The Queen Elizabeth Hall, via a company of Canadian Hip-Hop legends.
A meditation on aging as a B-Boy / Girl, Crazy Smooth: In my Body delivers familiar scenes of community hangouts as men and women break out and demonstrate their virtuosity with flex and humour.
This is punctuated "like an exclamation mark to the Gods" by the figures of Crazy Smooth and Tash. They appear at the outset of sequences, immersed in light effects that imprint muscular patterns onto their bodies, leaving the impression of digital, anatomical drawings. Crazy and Tash stand in spotlights exploring these patterns, seemingly vulnerable and humbled by the complexity of their own limbs.
The show really comes to life at the outset of Tash’s segment, as her slow and deliberate moves, contrasting the quicker formations of younger peers, trigger painterly strokes across the AV screen in a way that makes you second guess whether humans are leaving these vibrant trails or prerecorded technology.
At this midway point, the dancers’ partnership with the screen becomes connected and resonant, furthering a gentle story of generational division, a contrast to the opening sequences which seem underproduced given the QEH’s vast technical capabilities.
Moving deeper into the piece, segments of video and spoken word express dancers' inner journeys. Tash’s eyes fill the screen and illustrate emotion behind her story of taking a retail job before realising that she couldn’t fulfil her other life roles without practising dance.
The hip-hop machismo is also alive and well in some of the show's VO, as we are transported into an urban landscape where men are persecuted and look to their own potential and God for inspiration.
Crazy’s company are well built—their make-up is diverse and compelling with an impressive pool of strength and agility across genders and backgrounds. While the VO touches on themes of legacy and passing on the baton, or ‘hoodie’ in this instance, to the next generation, this theme recedes into the background. It is only made crystal-clear in small moments—of Crazy’s fatigue, of Tash moving slowly through a frantic stream of breaking dancers.
The show feels like an important milestone for the cast—a Transatlantic visit from one branch of the hip-hop family tree to another. Although, its lasting impression is one of meaningful fragments, and not quite the smooth intergenerational mix of time, space and motion that it could be.