[For further dates and venues, and other details, click on the production details above.]

Inspirational is the word that most readily springs to mind in describing Into the REM Zone. Pitched at children from 8 to 12 it is likely to mesmerise younger children, teenagers and adults alike and inspire all sorts of play and further discovery at many levels.

Named for the Rapid Eye Movement that accompanies dreaming, it is a ‘black theatre’ show that conjures up four dream sequences using dance, puppetry and illusion through the creative skills of dancers, designers (Tolis Papazoglou; lighting by Stephen Blackburn) and a composer/ musician (Stephen Gallagher), all working in collaboration with deviser/ director Peter Wilson.

At curtain call I expected a team of black-clad puppeteers to file on after the dancers, only to realise the four dancers had done the lot! I imagine that getting their turn at being a silk pyjama-clad sleeper/dreamer/dancer would have been the least challenging task of those that kept them all so busy for 80 non-stop minutes.

Which is not to say what is visible to the audience is frenetic; far from it. As in his previous work, Peter Wilson’s confidence in communicating with children produces no fear of stillness or the gentle dynamic of a quiet, private imagination. Thus the lively sequences express much more than the wacky superficiality that TV producers especially seem to think is necessary to maintain the interest of kids.

The choreography itself is not exactly challenging and the verbal content is super simple, which seems inconsistent with the 8-12 target audience. It is the magic of ‘black theatre’, where objects are animated in horizontal cross-light, that captures the imagination and is likely to inspire further enquiry and experimentation from inquisitive members of the audience.

As we arrive, subtle shadows play on a large ice-blue pillow, isolated in deep black space. The first dancer, Anita Hunziker, loves her pillow: “We do everything together” – and so they do. In her dream the pillow has a dancing life of its own. A silver-gloved hand beckons through a closed door … In the silver doorway, a magician does extraordinary things not only with objects but also his own body, quite losing his head at one point … Truly magical.

Halina Wolyncewicz falls asleep reading a book which becomes the key to her dream, ejecting letters, releasing a small wooden puppet and eventually spilling long sheets of paper that themselves become dancing shapes, taunting her by hiding her new-found friend. Whimsical.

A large sunflower with a short life, it seems, is the key to Hannah Stannard’s dream. “Sometimes the day begins and ends with nothing to look forward to.” The world is passing her by and she’s getting nowhere fast. Drawers pass by and reassemble as a dresser. A long-necked man looms … A red armchair offers comfort only to consume her in its fabric … Bits of her emerge impossibly from different parts of the dresser … Surreal.

The final work starts with a video of all four performers dining on noodles. Lance Riley gorges on them, so when – in live performance – he drags his burping self to bed, it’s indigestion that drives his dream. He regurgitates a huge noodle, then another … and from where he tossed them into the dark, a chorus line of squiggly noodles leaps into the light to dance. Large tentacle noodles invade his space … Stumpy little slinky noodles expand and undulate like airborne huhu grubs … The spectacular finale involves huge silver slugs, one of which turns him into a caterpillar, in a reverse metamorphosis that’s more fun than Kafka’s dark version. Delighful.

Stephen Gallagher’s music varies from five-finger piano playing to a multi-instrument score, fully synthesised and capturing states of being in dream-state from languid to lively. Illuminated by Blackburn’s ingenious ‘now you see it, now you don’t’ lighting, Papazoglou’s animated props (constructed by Debz Ruffel, Sue Hill and Rebecca Wild), in unseen hands, create the illusion of a large cast show. Well worth it.

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