Just as there is more than one way to skin a cat, contemporary dance can be interpreted in as many ways as “Brexit means Brexit”. Though perhaps “dance” is too restrictive a term to describe Superfan’s latest show Nosedive, winner of the 2019 Oxford Samuel Beckett Theatre Trust award, which premiered at the Platform in Glasgow before embarking on a short residency at the Barbican in London.

For the five-strong cast of three adults and two children – the latter of whom, Lachlan Payne and Albie Gaizely-Gardiner, are terrific, exuding an infectious mix of joy, spontaneity and fearlessness which stands in direct contrast to the fleeting moments of doubt, tension and frustration which pock mark the adults’ wary walk towards Michaella Fee’s blinding lights of tomorrow – fuse dance with acrobatics, light-touch clowning and storytelling to create an engaging and at times touching show about the journey from childhood to adulthood, the qualities we shed, the relationships we forge and the combination of choice, chance and circumstance that paves our paths.

Under the direction of Ellie Dubois and Pete Lannon, the five deviser/performers, who include the acrobatic duo Nikki Rummer and Jean-Daniel Broussé, and the circus artist Michelle Ross, are in total sync throughout as they perform an impressive and effortless array of emotionally-charged leaps and holds, twists and balances: from the comical opening in which a face-down Broussé writhes and twitches like a fish out of water as he tries to rediscover the va-va-voom of his youth, to the hopeful finale in which Payne encourages a backward-glancing Albie to walk with him towards the light.

Dialogue is scant, but profound questions are posed: What’s going to happen? What do you hope will happen? What do you see? The answers to which vary depending on the age of the respondent. The younger they are, the more they are focused on the here and now. Whereas those who have, to quote C. S. Lewis, “put away childish things” are more concerned about whether their hopes and dreams will unfold or unravel in the future, which like Rachel O’Neill’s design – an unblemished sheet of white which falls from the sky to the floor to the front of the stage – is a blank piece of paper upon which we write our lives.

And “we”, rather than “I”, lies at the heart of the show’s “no man is an island” philosophy as the performers climb on, over, through and with another as they collectively nosedive towards their uncertain fate, symbolised by the rumbling waves of Kim Moore’s electronic score. Though the unspoken question that lingers in the mind is: To whom should we look to for guidance? Our elders or the next generation? Given the downward trajectory of Brexit and the rise of Extinction Rebellion, perhaps its time for a radical shift in the balance of power.

Peter Callaghan