I’ve been seeing these impressive posters around town. Dance Me To The End was one of the shows I wanted to see in the Six Degrees Festival at BATS. How can you use VR in a theatre setting? Writer, designer, and director Carrie Thiel aims to answer that question.  

The time slot I go to has only myself and one other person booked into it. Because of this, at the top of the stairs outside The Studio where the show takes place, we are able to try out the VR headsets, watching pieces of art and dance filmed all around New Zealand. The headsets don’t just give you something stunning to look at, but also come with sound, something I’m not expecting. The film is beautiful, showing various pieces from a helicopter ride to impressive snow-topped mountains to having my hand lit on fire. You really are all-immersed. 

The show itself doesn’t pretend that this is all magic to be unveiled to us. The staff before we enter the show gives us a brief on what the show is like and what will happen. People wearing the VR headsets are even encouraged to take them off if they get too overwhelmed. As we enter, there are people from the previous intake still eagerly watching, one audience member next in line to try the VR headset on stage and be part of the eight minute story. They are having some technical issues – bound to happen when you have a technology-heavy show. Thiel is in the space and welcomes us. Her warm tone makes me feel instantly safe and comfortable.

The audience member puts on the headset and is given controllers for hands. They are given a moment to adjust with the guidance of VR developer and operator Ed Davis. They are shown there’s an ottoman they can sit on and orient themselves, and then the story starts with soft and beautiful original music from Chris Winter. Laura Jones, the performer, comes out wearing grey and black active wear with motion capture equipment on top.

She has a moment of disappointment – someone she thought would be there is not. She turns on a lamp and opens the grey and red curtains installed near the back of The Studio revealing a screen with what the VR participant is seeing projected onto it. There’s a lovely view of the Wellington harbour, and a faceless genderless sparkling human figure is standing and moving as Jones does. This is pre-recorded motion capture technology. Jones repeats the choreography exactly the same so it seems as though it really is live VR. Thiel mentioned before the show that she felt it was important for Jones to be wearing the motion capture technology for us to understand how the technology works. The VR participant still has freedom in which direction they turn their head and see what more of this virtual Studio space they can discover. Yet, the majority of the time, they are captured by Jones.

Jones begins her dance, or trying to dance, but is overcome with pain. On the screen behind her, we see a memory play out in colour, of Jones dancing with someone in The Studio. She laughs and looks happy. This is where Jones begins to sense there’s someone else in the room. “You’re here, aren’t you?” The dance continues as Jones tries to choreograph a new dance, another memory shows her in a beautiful frilly paso doble dress, dancing, with stage lights shining down on her. She’s grieving the loss of her dance partner. And the person in the VR is the ghost or spirit of this person. “You said you would dance me to the end.”

Eventually, the VR participant and Jones dance together and it’s really quite touching. The story is over, the headset comes off. The VR participant and Jones hug and applaud their audience for being there as we applaud them for bringing the story to life / afterlife. Jones resets the stage and disappears behind the curtain to start again for the next intake of audience members.

The show itself is gentle and over acted and this is a good thing. Jones must over act. She’s not only performing for us, she’s performing to the VR participant who can’t see her emotions and needs audio cues to indicate what they should do or where they should go. I appreciated that this is a show about grief, and while it’s easy for us to sexualise dancers and create narratives about people’s dance partners – in which the term ‘partner’ has a romantic connotation – this is a story about losing a friend. Someone you created art with. It’s a very special connection. And Jones treats the VR participant as a friend.

Dance Me To The End is a gentle and touching story that includes some pretty impressive technology. While it doesn’t quite fit into the theatre realm seamlessly, as we can see all the strings attached, it’s exciting to think in the future it really could be. This could be an area of theatre. However, for right now, it’s an incredibly reasonable price to witness and even try out this amazing futuristic technology. I would encourage everyone to go and experience it.

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