Review: Wing Chun – a particular insight into cultural physicalisation

Chinese performance returns to Sadler’s Wells in the form of Wing Chun. The premise is a biographical look at the Wing Chun Grandmaster, Yip Man – a renowned teacher who educated many, including Bruce Lee, and brought the form to the global level that martial arts now inhabit.

I’m not necessarily a major fan, though I have respect for anyone who has commitment and skill and, of course, I love Michelle Yeoh as much as the next sane person, but can a cocktail of Wing Chun, Tai Chi, Bagua Zhang, Baji Quan, Praying Mantis and urban legend style narrative pull a show together? In a word: yes… but with the odd caveat.

First and foremost the cast are super. Across the board there’s an exceptional level of skill and involvement. Likewise the choreography by Han Zhen and Zhou Liya. It didn’t feel as if anything was repeated more than once, which is a rarity. And the overanimated, gestural style certainly gives a particular insight into cultural physicalisation.

The narrative unfolds through a meta framework – a story within a story. Or rather a true (ish?) story, told via a biopic movie set within a live show. Confused? So was I, specifically during the first act which is narrative-heavy and not always clear – Who’s that? Is this reality or imagined movie? Which time period are we in? Etc.

The second act has both highs and lows, and could do with a serious edit. There’s a hell of a lot of melodramatic schmaltz, to the point that one’s soon looking for an ending, yet it never seems to arrive!

The lows are the above, and the highs are when the martial arts themselves get to sing. Each genre is given a solo moment and they’re riveting, highlighting the art of the discipline as opposed to just the (extraordinary) skill. I enjoyed the Praying Mantis – all zing and animalistic poses – and the Bagua Zhang which emanates grace and awareness.

The overall production values can’t be questioned, and these range from the smallest detail to the numerous, yet seamless scene transitions. Never underestimate the power of sets (Hu Yanjun) on wheels or a rotating stage. And the lighting (Ren Dongsheng) is also exquisitely realised giving endless cinematic moments of real power.

The whole experience is undoubtedly a success, but even work of this level can keep developing through ongoing analysis and tweaks. Though periods felt tiresome, I felt more appreciation for martial arts post-show than pre. The performance got me thinking about the philosophy behind the disciplines, one of self-cultivation as opposed to gratuitous violence, how this translates to movement that’s both purposeful and economic, and then transcends into dynamic, original choreography.

The intention and related, core content of the production have zero issues, but the way they’re currently packaged could do with less histrionic filler, i.e. a heavy dose of an unsympathetic, cutthroat editor.

Matthew Paluch Guest Author

Matthew Paluch was awarded a place at The Royal Ballet School in 1990 where he graduated in 1997. His first four years as a professional dancer were spent working with London City Ballet, Scottish Ballet, K-Ballet and English National Ballet, becoming a full-time member of ENB until leaving in 2006.

Matthew graduated from the Royal Academy of Dance, Professional Dancers’ Teaching Diploma in 2007, and was formerly on faculty at The Royal Ballet School. He completed his Masters in Ballet Studies at Roehampton University in 2011, has been a freelance writer since 2010 and currently works in the Law Sector.

He is a member of the Dance Section of The Critics’ Circle.