Movement and drama combine in 'Rebound'

In a set that looks like a padded cell, dancers from Conny Janssen Danst perform "Rebound" at Jacob's Pillow. (Ben rudick)

BECKET - The Netherlands company Conny Janssen Danst made its East Coast debut Thursday at Jacob's Pillow's Doris Duke Studio Theatre, and I already miss it. Hopefully the full company will be invited back for a full evening of dance. In the meantime, "Rebound," Janssen's 60-minute 2005 quintet for men, is a thoughtful, powerful memento.

When the audience begins filing in, the stage has already been set. In what appears to be a padded cell, five men lounge about dispiritedly, their slacks and shirts in the beginning stages of dishabille, as if it's been a tough day at the office. Whether jailed or institutionalized, they're trapped.

"Rebound" is a dance-theater piece, but the dance easily drives the drama. The performers here are finely trained, as they must be to deliver Janssen's memorable, warm-blooded choreography, her fluidly driving movements shifting expertly from upright positions to floorwork. Even when set to an ambient section of the well-chosen selections of music and sound, the dance phrases are uncannily musical. The ensemble work has the same natural quality, as the men slip simply into duets, trios, quartets, moving and breathing together like a top-notch corps de ballet.

While no clear narrative emerges, a breadth of possibilities streams continuously out of Janssen's physically poetic images, delivering up that satisfaction when a work of art compels you to think, but doesn't tell you what to think. The despair these men exude could be the result of war or a tanking economy. Tough times for decent guys, and you can see the tension and smell the fear on them. The grinding futility of their situation makes them occasional adversaries, grappling, wrestling, and flinging one another around.

Martijn Kappers and Kevin Polak have the most complex relationship of the five, almost Jesus/Judas in quality. Indeed, several times Kappers even looks crucified, as he is spun and pushed forward into a deep arch with head flung back and arms wildly thrown to the side; another time Kappers is the cross itself on Polak's back. Polak seems to want Kappers to see something, holding Kappers's chin in his hand and moving his head side to side; later Polak grips Kappers's forehead backward, perhaps shielding him.

Even so, "Rebound" is an often playful piece: The cell, though a dark metaphor, is rather friendly looking with its bright, cushy 10-foot-high walls and cut-out cubes and shelves that the men perch upon. The walls beckon, and so the dancers leap and splat against them, or, aided by one or two partners, run up them and then push and leap off them, like superheroes. Late in the piece a middle section is pushed out, like a drawer, to reveal a trampoline, miked, no less. Much acrobatic bounding ensues, some silly, some menacing.

These men are both vulnerable and aggressive - human, therefore, and extremely likable. I'm not usually one for the Hollywood ending, but I found myself hoping for an opening to reveal itself, for the piece to end with their escape. But Janssen is the wiser, and the piece ends with the men tired out and once again collapsed, despondent against the wall. It's quietly devastating, and it's art. Possibly, sadly, imitating life.