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Yahoo
19-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Shadows, Ballet Black: What would you do if your sister kept killing people?
You're a young nurse, and you have a beautiful, confident sister. You love her, but there's just one problem. To date, she has murdered three boyfriends in what she insists is 'self-defence', and summoned you to clear up the mess. Just how many times can you find yourself reaching for the rubber gloves before the whole thing gets a bit much? And, now that your sis has started seeing a doctor you secretly adore, where do your loyalties really lie? Such is the simple but strong premise of My Sister, The Serial Killer, one of two premieres that make up Ballet Black's brooding new double-bill, Shadows. About 50 pithy minutes straight through, the piece is an adaptation, by BB's founder and artistic director Cassa Pancho, of the gallows-humorous 2019 bestseller of the same name by Oyinkan Braithwaite, essentially an elaborate riff on the dictum that you may be able to choose your friends, but you sure can't choose your family. With a little (ok, quite a bit) more money, Pancho might have been enjoyably able to preserve the book's bustling Lagos setting. As it is, the piece plays out in a present-day everytown, with lighting and a handful of props working hard to set the scene, along with a cinematic score by Tom Harrold. Part neo-classical, part contemporary, it plunges us straight in medias res, with Korede (Isabela Coracy, dancing and acting her heart out) steeling herself for what she knows she's about to find: Ayoola (Helga Paris-Morales), in a blood-soaked nightdress, with a fresh cadaver just inches away. Out, yet again, comes the Cillit Bang... That spirit of pithy, punchy storytelling continues, with the gentle romantic promise of Korede's lyrical little duet with the doctor Tade (Ebony Thomas) soon cruelly swept away by his and Ayoola's whiz-bang first meeting. Instantly, the potentially blood-soaked love triangle is set up, with Puerto Rico-born Paris-Morales displaying not only the come-hither physical slinkiness but also the looks to convince as this most fatale of femmes. (The work feels in many ways like a fusion-in-dance of the neo-noir film Basic Instinct and friendly-serial-killer telly series Dexter, which can only be a Good Thing.) There's also an impeccably staged party scene, with Ayoola coolly poisoning a fellow in a boudoir while a clutch of revellers groove seductively in the room next door to Toots and the Maytals' 1968 reggae classic 54-46 That's My Number (a song I've particularly loved ever since winning a battle of the bands with it, though that's a story for another time). And Pancho also capitalises on her art form to serve up two melodramatic but still gripping nightmare scenes, which lay bare Korede's efforts to process her and Ayoola's actions. Ultimately, it is the evident closeness of the two leads' relationship that carries this outlandish story plausibly along and keeps you hooked. It's enjoyable pulp fiction in the main, though there is a deeper point at its core: if a beloved family member did something horrific, what would you do? (Rating: * * * *) The opening piece, A Shadow Work, is about the same length as My Sister... but feels longer. The British debut of New Yorker Chanel DaSilva, it delves into the titular works of 'shadow work', the Jungian practice of therapeutically laying bare the subconscious. I enjoyed Taraja Hudson's lead, vividly exploiting DaSilva's protean choreography, and Acaoã de Castro as the psychological Virgil to her Dante; neat use, too, of an old-school document box as a metaphor for suppressed emotions. What it lacks is a sense of progress, of really going somewhere – by the end, the promise of the concept and earlier scenes has rather fizzled, however capable the collective performances. (* * *) Still, treat it as a mood-darkening amuse-bouche for the knife-wielding main event, and you're likely to have a good evening. The Hackney Empire audience certainly did, never mind the fact that the entire bill was somehow cobbled together while the company was unenviably between bases. Not for the first time, hats off to BB. At Hackney until March 15, then touring until July;
The Guardian
19-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘Like seeing an old friend': Oyinkan Braithwaite on My Sister, the Serial Killer becoming a ballet
One dead body. Two sisters. Two pairs of yellow gloves. The wiping away of the evidence; one sister efficiently, the other lazily. And in the background, an enigmatic score. So begins the Ballet Black adaptation of my debut novel, My Sister, the Serial Killer. I have dreamed of it coming to life via various visual mediums – film, TV, as a musical, as a play. Not once did I consider it as a ballet production. And not because I don't love the medium – in a former life I joined a ballet school, which we won't dwell on here – but because, in creating this story, I focused heavily on dialogue and a ballet is essentially wordless. Still, when I was approached by Ballet Black, I was intrigued. Ballet Black is a company founded by Cassa Pancho, with the mission to showcase diversity on stage and promote inclusivity for Black and Asian content. And perhaps, because of that, the perfect company to handle my story, which is set in Nigeria – a majority black environment. Cassa directs the adaptation and her vision for it is clear. The plot is truncated, keeping only the elements required to get the story across in a 50-minute production – the murderous femme fatale, the put-upon sister, the doctor caught between them, the endless male victims and the knife at the heart of it all. The first time I watched the performance, I was moved to tears. Ayoola, played to perfection by Helga Paris-Morales, entered the scene, and it was like seeing a friend from decades past. I would have known her anywhere. Certainly, there were differences – this Ayoola is more 'psychotic' – but the way she carried herself, the way she twisted her waist, the little shakes of her hips, the long, slow smiles, the playfulness, the teasing; all Ayoola. During her pas de deux with Dr Tade, played by Ebony Thomas, she allows him to feel in control, to pull her closer, and reach for her as she dances on pointe around him. Then there's Korede, the protagonist in my story and in this ballet, and the more complex of the two sisters. Korede is played by the gifted Isabela Coracy. Isabela takes the character and illustrates her seriousness, her vulnerability and her pain. The agony can be seen in the way she hugs her body, and hunches her normally elongated form. Cassa was particularly insightful in giving Korede's demons life via the talented dancers that surround her, tug at her, torment her and pull her down into their harrowing depths. And the team's attention to detail is truly impressive. One example: Ayoola's poisoning of her lover's drink perfectly synced to the beat of Toots and the Maytals' 54-46 Was My Number. And they nod to the source material's culture in the inclusion of Fela Kuti's Water No Get Enemy, a wonderful accompaniment to the original score by composer Tom Harrold which managed to be jaunty, mystical and compelling. I also thoroughly appreciated the authentic look of the Nigerian police uniform, courtesy of costume designer Jessica Cabassa. My Sister, the Serial Killer is part of a double bill with Chanel DaSilva's A Shadow Work, a more abstract piece saturated with strong routines. There is so much of note – the thumping/fluttering of hands to chest, the helicopter spins the dancers perform, the arms swinging in pendulum style, the fixed smiling faces that could not be any creepier, the futuristic score and the silent, musicless communication at the centre of the piece. It is a work that explores the struggle when trying to come to terms with one's inner demons or alter ego. There is certainly a link that can be made with My Sister, the Serial Killer. It goes without saying that I am highly biased towards this adaptation but I was not alone. Behind me, I heard a woman mutter 'psycho bitch' at one of Ayoola's actions. And I often caught the odd gasp. My husband, who is as familiar with the ins and outs of My Sister, the Serial Killer as I am, laughed several times. The performance was engaging, cheeky, funny, an excellent way to spend the evening with family, friends or even on your own – it won't matter because you'll be sucked in by the narrative and the bodies pirouetting effortlessly across the stage. At Birmingham Rep on 27-28 March, then touring
The Independent
15-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Shadows, Ballet Black creates a ‘haunting' dance spectacle in ‘handsome' double bill
Ballet Black has adapted Oyinkan Braithwaite's novel My Sister, The Serial Killer with irresistible verve, making murder dreadfully relatable. It's a marvel of deft dance storytelling as it mixes stylish dancing and witty characterisation. Paired with Chanel DaSilva's A Shadow Work, it makes a handsome double bill. Ballet Black was created to advocate for Black and Asian dancers, but this small, adventurous company has always punched well above its weight in creating new works. Choreographed by founder Cassa Pancho, My Sister, The Serial Killer shows off the dancers' charisma and versatility. Isabela Coracy is a superb Korede, the put-upon big sister who always has her sister's back, up to and including arriving with bleach and rubber gloves to clean up after the latest murder. In public, there's an emphatic edge to Coracy's dancing, which melts away when we see glimpses of her private self. Working with Ebony Thomas's handsome doctor, she spins into a dancefloor fantasy; as the story darkens, we see her wrestle with her nightmares. As her sister, Ayoola, Helga Paris-Morales soaks up admiration, turning towards male attention or to her phone camera like a flower seeking the sun. There's a hilarious sense that murder is just part of her flirtation routine; she sways her hips as she gets out the poison bottle. Pancho and her dancers make telling details shine. When Ayoola reaches out to the doctor, we notice the bracelet, a gift from a previous victim, sparkling on her wrist. The sisters' bone-deep relationship is the heart of the ballet. Coracy and Paris-Morales are wonderfully at home with each other. Bickering over favourite songs layered into Tom Harrold's pacy score, they flip from irritation to fondness in a second. Pancho and associate choreographer Jacob Wye build up a compelling world around them, from daily life at the hospital to social dancing at parties. Richard Bolton's sets and Jessica Cabassa's bright costumes are simple but precise. The ballet has a wilder side, too, as dreams haunt Korede or dancers transform into the river where the sisters dump a body. There's a different kind of haunting in DaSilva's A Shadow Work. Taraja Hudson dances alone, with fluid steps and bold gestures. Dark-clad dancers then emerge around her, aspects of herself that she can accept or push away. As the lead shadow, Acaoã de Castro presses his forehead into her hand, or produces a sinister box, a place for emotional baggage. It's an episodic work, but DaSilva's choreography is fluent, both in Hudson's introspective solos and in the massed dances for the crowd of shadows.
Telegraph
15-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Shadows, Ballet Black: What would you do if your sister kept killing people?
You're a young nurse, and you have a beautiful, confident sister. You love her, but there's just one problem. To date, she has murdered three boyfriends in what she insists is 'self-defence', and summoned you to clear up the mess. Just how many times can you find yourself reaching for the rubber gloves before the whole thing gets a bit much? And, now that your sis has started seeing a doctor you secretly adore, where do your loyalties really lie? Such is the simple but strong premise of My Sister, The Serial Killer, one of two premieres that make up Ballet Black 's brooding new double-bill, Shadows. About 50 pithy minutes straight through, the piece is an adaptation, by BB's founder and artistic director Cassa Pancho, of the gallows-humorous 2019 bestseller of the same name by Oyinkan Braithwaite, essentially an elaborate riff on the dictum that you may be able to choose your friends, but you sure can't choose your family. With a little (ok, quite a bit) more money, Pancho might have been enjoyably able to preserve the book's bustling Lagos setting. As it is, the piece plays out in a present-day everytown, with lighting and a handful of props working hard to set the scene, along with a cinematic score by Tom Harrold. Part neo-classical, part contemporary, it plunges us straight in medias res, with Korede (Isabela Coracy, dancing and acting her heart out) steeling herself for what she knows she's about to find: Ayoola (Helga Paris-Morales), in a blood-soaked nightdress, with a fresh cadaver just inches away. Out, yet again, comes the Cillit Bang... That spirit of pithy, punchy storytelling continues, with the gentle romantic promise of Korede's lyrical little duet with the doctor Tade (Ebony Thomas) soon cruelly swept away by his and Ayoola's whiz-bang first meeting. Instantly, the potentially blood-soaked love triangle is set up, with Puerto Rico-born Paris-Morales displaying not only the come-hither physical slinkiness but also the looks to convince as this most fatale of femmes. (The work feels in many ways like a fusion-in-dance of the neo-noir film Basic Instinct and friendly-serial-killer telly series Dexter, which can only be a Good Thing.) There's also an impeccably staged party scene, with Ayoola coolly poisoning a fellow in a boudoir while a clutch of revellers groove seductively in the room next door to Toots and the Maytals' 1968 reggae classic 54-46 That's My Number (a song I've particularly loved ever since winning a battle of the bands with it, though that's a story for another time). And Pancho also capitalises on her art form to serve up two melodramatic but still gripping nightmare scenes, which lay bare Korede's efforts to process her and Ayoola's actions. Ultimately, it is the evident closeness of the two leads' relationship that carries this outlandish story plausibly along and keeps you hooked. It's enjoyable pulp fiction in the main, though there is a deeper point at its core: if a beloved family member did something horrific, what would you do? (Rating: * * * *) The opening piece, A Shadow Work, is about the same length as My Sister... but feels longer. The British debut of New Yorker Chanel DaSilva, it delves into the titular works of 'shadow work', the Jungian practice of therapeutically laying bare the subconscious. I enjoyed Taraja Hudson's lead, vividly exploiting DaSilva's protean choreography, and Acaoã de Castro as the psychological Virgil to her Dante; neat use, too, of an old-school document box as a metaphor for suppressed emotions. What it lacks is a sense of progress, of really going somewhere – by the end, the promise of the concept and earlier scenes has rather fizzled, however capable the collective performances. (* * *) Still, treat it as a mood-darkening amuse-bouche for the knife-wielding main event, and you're likely to have a good evening. The Hackney Empire audience certainly did, never mind the fact that the entire bill was somehow cobbled together while the company was unenviably between bases. Not for the first time, hats off to BB.
Buzz Feed
28-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Buzz Feed
10 Books By Black Authors I Need To Be Made Into Films ASAP
1. My Sister, The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite This is the plot according to Goodreads: "When Korede's dinner is interrupted one night by a distress call from her sister, Ayoola, she knows what's expected of her: bleach, rubber gloves, nerves of steel and a strong stomach. This'll be the third boyfriend Ayoola's dispatched in, quote, self-defence and the third mess that her lethal little sibling has left Korede to clear away. She should probably go to the police for the good of the menfolk of Nigeria, but she loves her sister and, as they say, family always comes first. Until, that is, Ayoola starts dating the doctor where Korede works as a nurse. Korede's long been in love with him, and isn't prepared to see him wind up with a knife in his back: but to save one would mean sacrificing the other..." As the title suggests, the main character's sister has managed to kill every single one of her partners. Whether you support women's rights (or wrongs) and believe Ayoola to be the victim, this book definitely had me wondering who would be next on the chopping block (no pun intended). I'll never say "no" to a thriller/mystery with a Black female lead, so let's hurry up with that script. 2. Kindred by Octavia Butler Beacon Press / Via This is the plot according to Goodreads: "Dana, a modern Black woman, is celebrating her 26th birthday with her new husband when she is snatched abruptly from her home in California and transported to the antebellum South. Rufus, the white son of a plantation owner, is drowning, and Dana has been summoned to save him. Dana is drawn back repeatedly through time to the slave quarters, and each time the stay grows longer, more arduous, and more dangerous until it is uncertain whether or not Dana's life will end, long before it has a chance to begin." Okay, now hear me out, I understand that there was a show, but it wasn't thaaat great of an adaptation in my opinion. (Did it deserve to get canceled on a cliffhanger, though? No.) But I think a movie would allow the story to be fleshed out more fully. There's a reason Kindred (and Octavia Butler books in general) is so popular, so I'm holding out for something better. 3. Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah Now THIS is how you write an anthology. This book perfectly blends drama, sci-fi, and dystopian horror. If you enjoyed films like Sorry to Bother You, Get Out, or They Cloned Tyrone, this is something you need to read (and something I need to see on a screen). This could even work as an American Horror Story -type beat. Please tell me y'all see the vision! 4. Blackout by Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany D. Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, and Nicola Yoon This is the plot according to Goodreads: "A summer heatwave blankets New York City in darkness. But as the city is thrown into confusion, a different kind of electricity sparks… A first meeting. Long-time friends. Bitter exes. And maybe the beginning of something new. When the lights go out, people reveal hidden truths. Love blossoms, friendship transforms, and new possibilities take flight." So I'm not a romance person at all when it comes to books, and this book is definitely written for younger audiences. But guys, we're literally on the darkest timeline, and this is a book that will make you feel like life is worth living. All of the stories portray young Black love in its purest form and definitely deserve an adaptation. 5. Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston This is the plot according to Goodreads: "In 1927, Zora Neale Hurston went to Plateau, Alabama, just outside Mobile, to interview eighty-six-year-old Cudjo Lewis. Of the millions of men, women, and children transported from Africa to America as slaves, Cudjo was then the only person alive to tell the story of this integral part of the nation's history. Hurston was there to record Cudjo's firsthand account of the raid that led to his capture and bondage fifty years after the Atlantic slave trade was outlawed in the United States. In 1931, Hurston returned to Plateau, the African-centric community three miles from Mobile founded by Cudjo and other former slaves from his ship. Spending more than three months there, she talked in depth with Cudjo about the details of his life. During those weeks, the young writer and the elderly formerly enslaved man ate peaches and watermelon that grew in the backyard and talked about Cudjo's past--memories from his childhood in Africa, the horrors of being captured and held in a barracoon for selection by American slavers, the harrowing experience of the Middle Passage packed with more than 100 other souls aboard the Clotilda, and the years he spent in slavery until the end of the Civil War. Based on those interviews, featuring Cudjo's unique vernacular, and written from Hurston's perspective with the compassion and singular style that have made her one of the preeminent American authors of the twentieth-century, Barracoon masterfully illustrates the tragedy of slavery and of one life forever defined by it. Offering insight into the pernicious legacy that continues to haunt us all, black and white, this poignant and powerful work is an invaluable contribution to our shared history and culture." For this book, I'm not sure if I see a feature film necessarily, but a documentary would be amazing. This book should be required reading and honestly goes to show just how recent slavery was. And it's time we gave more Black anthropologists, like Zora Neale Hurston, their flowers. 6. Captain America: Truth — Red, White & Black by Robert Morales This is the plot according to Goodreads: "In 1940, Joe Simon and Jack Kirby created Captain America, a frail patriot who was transformed by a 'super-soldier serum' into a physically perfect specimen to champion freedom, an American alternative to the Nazi uebermensch. Now, writer Morales pursues this idea and also draws inspiration from U.S. government experiments in the 1930s that left unwitting African-Americans infected with syphilis, leading to many deaths. Beginning his story in 1940, Morales incisively depicts the racism his various African-American characters confront both in civilian life and in the military. These black soldiers are compelled to act as test subjects for the super-soldier serum; some die, while others become deformed. Ultimately only one survives, Isaiah Bradley. Substituting for Captain America on a mission, Bradley discovers Jewish concentration camp inmates subjected to experiments. Ranging from heroic figures to pointed caricatures, artist Baker makes his varied styles gel. Drawing on copious research, Morales dramatizes how racism corrupted American history, yet verges close to asserting moral equivalency between America and Nazi Germany. Roosevelt was ultimately in charge of the super-soldier program: would he have approved these human experiments? Besides, how can one talk about 'truth' regarding a fictional creation? Simon and Kirby devised a fable about an American everyman tapping his inner strength to combat genocidal fascism; Kirby helped pioneer positive depictions of blacks in comics. By adding Morales's backstory to Captain America's origin, Marvel has turned the character into a white superman who owes his powers to the deaths and exploitation of African-Americans." It's time Steve Rogers had several seats and gave Isaiah Bradley his time to shine. I'm sure we all remember seeing Chris Evans's beefy body onscreen after undergoing the super-soldier experiment. But this book uses that same experiment to allude to the real-life experiments Black people endured, like The Tuskegee Syphilis Study, giving us the "first" Captain America, Isaiah Bradley. And with us seeing a lot more of Sam Wilson as the new Captain America in the MCU, it'd be great to see Isaiah Bradley get some well-deserved screen time. Before all you MCU experts come in here like "he does get screen time!" I'm sorry, but I refuse to acknowledge that little feature in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Captain America: Brave New World! He's literally Captain America! I need more! 7. Sula by Toni Morrison This is the plot according to Goodreads: "Sula and Nel are two young Black girls: clever and poor. They grow up together sharing their secrets, dreams and happiness. Then Sula breaks free from their small-town community in the uplands of Ohio to roam the cities of America. When she returns ten years later much has changed. Including Nel, who now has a husband and three children. The friendship between the two women becomes strained and the whole town grows wary as Sula continues in her wayward, vagabond and uncompromising ways." So I was led to believe this book was about ✨friendship and girlhood✨, but it's Toni Morrison. Of course, she just about broke my heart with this one. Between the very real situations Black folks found themselves in post-slavery and the very human experience of grieving lost friendships, I was deep in my feelings. As far as I know, Beloved was the only book of Morrison's to be adapted into a movie, so I'm ready for another one. Sidebar, we don't talk about Beloved enough as a society and how often it gets excluded from conversations about the horror genre. But that's a discussion for another day! 8. Zone One by Colson Whitehead Anchor / Via This is the plot according to Goodreads: "In this wry take on the post-apocalyptic horror novel, a pandemic has devastated the planet. The plague has sorted humanity into two types: the uninfected and the infected, the living and the living dead. Now the plague is receding, and Americans are busy rebuilding civilization under orders from the provisional government based in Buffalo. Their top mission: the resettlement of Manhattan. Armed forces have successfully reclaimed the island south of Canal Street—aka Zone One—but pockets of plague-ridden squatters remain. While the army has eliminated the most dangerous of the infected, teams of civilian volunteers are tasked with clearing out a more innocuous variety—the 'malfunctioning' stragglers, who exist in a catatonic state, transfixed by their former lives. Mark Spitz is a member of one of the civilian teams working in lower Manhattan. Alternating between flashbacks of Spitz's desperate fight for survival during the worst of the outbreak and his present narrative, the novel unfolds over three surreal days, as it depicts the mundane mission of straggler removal, the rigors of Post-Apocalyptic Stress Disorder, and the impossible job of coming to grips with the fallen world. And then things start to go wrong." I actually need to be a hater for a second. I did not enjoy this book. It was a 1-star read for me. But the premise? I looooved it. So while I have beef with the source material, I have no qualms about a post-apocalyptic film with a Black lead. Sometimes, the movie is better and that's okay! I do have to say though that I don't have beef with Colson Whitehead in general. If it weren't already a movie, I would've added the wonder that is Nickel Boys. 9. Binti by Nnedi Okorafar / Via This is the plot according to Goodreads: "Her name is Binti, and she is the first of the Himba people ever to be offered a place at Oomza University, the finest institution of higher learning in the galaxy. But to accept the offer will mean giving up her place in her family to travel between the stars among strangers who do not share her ways or respect her customs. Knowledge comes at a cost, one that Binti is willing to pay, but her journey will not be easy. The world she seeks to enter has long warred with the Meduse, an alien race that has become the stuff of nightmares. Oomza University has wronged the Meduse, and Binti's stellar travel will bring her within their deadly reach. If Binti hopes to survive the legacy of a war not of her making, she will need both the the gifts of her people and the wisdom enshrined within the University, itself -- but first she has to make it there, alive." Okay, I actually need another second to be a hater. I personally found the book hard to follow, but will I be sat for a film about Black people in space civilizations? Absolutely. The book is kinda like if Black Panther and Star Wars had a sci-fi baby. 10. Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi This is the plot according to Goodreads: "Two half-sisters, Effia and Esi, are born into different villages in eighteenth-century Ghana. Effia is married off to an Englishman and lives in comfort in the palatial rooms of Cape Coast Castle. Unbeknownst to Effia, her sister, Esi, is imprisoned beneath her in the castle's dungeons, sold with thousands of others into the Gold Coast's booming slave trade, and shipped off to America, where her children and grandchildren will be raised in slavery. One thread of 'Homegoing' follows Effia's descendants through centuries of warfare in Ghana, as the Fante and Asante nations wrestle with the slave trade and British colonization. The other thread follows Esi and her children into America. From the plantations of the South to the Civil War and the Great Migration, from the coal mines of Pratt City, Alabama, to the jazz clubs and dope houses of twentieth-century Harlem, right up through the present day, 'Homegoing' makes history visceral, and captures, with singular and stunning immediacy, how the memory of captivity came to be inscribed in the soul of a nation." Now, I had to save the best for last. This is my favorite book of all time simply because it resonated with me deeply as a Black American woman. Since I love it so much, I think the adaptation needs to be done with care, and the only two people I trust with this undertaking are Ava DuVernay and Barry Jenkins. So, if y'all are seeing this, it's time to lock in. Check out more Black-centered content by exploring how BuzzFeed is celebrating Black History Month this year! Of course, the content doesn't end after February. Follow BuzzFeed's Cocoa Butter on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube to keep up with our latest Black culture content year-round. BuzzFeed
