Dancers fling themselves across the stage, ravenously thrusting and leaping angelically. There are wild beasts and rubbish scattered, flowers adorning the stage and bodies calmly sitting cross-legged; in the interval, an impromptu cabaret show from five animal-headed performers. This is Rosie Kay’s latest work There Is Hope, premiered at Birmingham’s DanceXchange. An ambitious piece overwhelmed by a complex mix of physical theatre, dance, film and live music, There is Hope takes on the immense task of exploring the universality of belief and religion.

Following Kay’s extremely successful and timely investigation of war in Five Soldiers, Kay explains that the idea of religion appealed to her in part due to the multicultural context of her Birmingham base, but also due to its enormity. The sheer scale of what she is trying to explore is indeed what is most striking about There is Hope. While she follows a dramaturgical structure of real life, hell, purgatory and then heaven, the piece is crammed with all manner of religious references from incense burners and meditating, to chanting and gospel choirs.

In the most remarkable moments, Kay creates superbly tangible imagery. In one sequence, a cross-shaped stage becomes a plinth to present the cycle of life. Dancers tumble unceremoniously onto the cross, growing to a adult with arms akimbo at the peak, before slowly wilting and dropping off the end. At another point, the exuberant presence of Chris Vann takes a preacher-style sign stating “There Is Hope →” and points the arrow most poignantly at small things: a pile of empty plastic bottles, a flower, and even a late returning audience member.  

However, at times her literal approach does become a little grating, in particular during a sequence retelling the story of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, a story so familiar it seems unnecessary, and direct references to rituals turns into a game of spot the religion. Furthermore, although the live musicians (led by Chris Mapp) create a sensuous, tingling experience, and the set (Yann Seabra) and video (Louis Price) are detailed and engaging, the complete experience is so vast that the videos seem sadly redundant.   

With five captivating dancers, and a work that veritably punches you in the face with its enormity of theme and production, one certainly can’t fault Kay’s ambition and execution. Ultimately, There Is Hope is a uniquely subjective piece; from the perspective of different cultures and different beliefs, Kay’s work no doubt resonates in different ways. What is most important is the dialogue this piece has the potential to spark: the discussions about unfamiliar cultures, the arguments about life and death, and the questions we ask ourselves about belief and ultimately hope. What better place for the genesis of this intercultural discourse than the origin of Kay’s inspiration, Birmingham.