Review: Qui Som? (Who Are We?), Southbank Centre

The ensemble of twelve adults and two children (the youngest only seven and looking like she is having a great time) in Qui Som?, or Who Are We?,  draws on an impressive range of disciplines. Acting, singing, dancing, acrobatics, mime, live music and even a bit of throwing, of the clay pot variety, are all present. After one of the best reminders I’ve seen about turning off your mobile, the show unfolds as a series of vignettes, linked (mostly) by overarching themes of pollution, exploitation of the Earth’s resources, and what this means for future generations.

The choreography and movement are innovative, precise and expertly executed, with acrobatics woven in seamlessly — often impressively performed in high heels. One of the strongest examples comes near the start, when the ensemble stands on what appears to be some kind of spillage, oil or chemicals perhaps. To the sound of soothing Baroque music and some wonderful singing, the slick surface sends performers slipping and falling, knocking into one another yet always helping each other back up. The falls are clearly well rehearsed but still look convincingly real, prompting a few appreciative ‘ooh’s and ‘aaah’s from the audience.  

Another memorable skit features a man delivering a lengthy political speech made up of familiar words, phrases and well-worn sayings, which individually make sense but collectively amount to nothing of substance. The listening crowd reacts as though they agree without really understanding, with one dissenting voice. There is gentle humour throughout, more giggle inducing rather than laugh out loud, mostly rooted in clowning and physical slap-stick. I suspect some things were probably lost in translation.

The set (Lluc Castells) is imaginative and engaging. A structure resembling a fluffy, softened version of Uluru is both visually striking and faintly ominous, eventually becoming a character in its own right as it consumes and ejects people and plastic. The sea of plastic bottles is equally striking, its movement and sound blending with the rolling‑tide soundscape (Fanny Thollot) to create a vivid, atmospheric effect.

So, my main complaint is the length. The advertised running time of two hours with no interval already felt as though it was dragging, but then we were subjected to an extra section after the curtain call, which meant it was actually nearer to two and half hours. Yes, short delays to the start are understandable but tacking on lengthy add-ons feels disrespectful to the audience, many of whom have been at work all day and need to catch trains or relieve babysitters. In fact, several people did actually get up and leave during this wholly unnecessary closing lecture, to the apparent surprise of the narrator. 

Throughout the piece, each section runs a little bit too long, and it adds up. Most could lose a minute, sometimes more, and some maybe dispensed with altogether. Tightening each element would help with the meandering quality of the piece, and allow it to deliver its message with far less tedium. 

For all its strengths and creativity — inventive movement, gentle humour, and striking visual design — the production ultimately labours under the weight of its own duration. There is a thoughtful, often beautiful piece here, but its impact is diluted by indulgent pacing and an extended running time that outstays its welcome. With firmer editing, the show’s message could land far more clearly.

Written by Camille Decourtye and Blaï Mateu Trias
Directed by Maria Muñoz and Pep Ramis / Mal Pelo
Dramaturgy by Barbara Métais-Chastanier
Costume and Set Design by Lluc Castells
Lighting Design by María de la Cámara and Gabriel Paré / Cube.bz
Musical collaboration and sound creation by Fanny Thollot
Musical collaboration and composing by Pierre-François Dufour
Produced by Baro d’evel

Qui Som? (Who Are We?) plays at the Southbank Centre (Queen Elizabeth Hall) until Friday 16 October.