I went into Neon Dance’s presentation of Last and First Men cold – i.e. knowing very little about it – and a little hot (rushing from a previous engagement). On its own terms, it’s haunting and beautiful and danced by an incredibly skilled and athletic cast (Fukiko Takase, Aoi Nakamura, and Kelvin Kilonzo). But this is one of those productions for which I wish I’d known more about its many layers beforehand.

The work is based on Olaf Stapledon’s 1930 novel of the same name, which many refer to as “science fiction” but I’m informed reads deliberately drily – like a textbook – and is better characterised as a “future history” of 18 successive species of humanity. Stapledon was also a philosopher who directly influenced many other thinkers, including Bertrand Russell. He was also a conscientious objector who worked as an ambulance driver during the First World War and who was awarded the Croix de Guerre for bravery. His fiction describes a number of phenomena that have subsequently become features of theoretical physics and which foresaw ethically-complicated realities like genetic engineering and efforts to modify the climates of other planets to make them habitable for humans.
Much of his work depicts conflicts between “higher” and “lower” order impulses. It is here that the backdrop to the dance, a 2017 black-and-white 16mm film by Oscar-nominated Icelandic composer, the late Jóhann Jóhannsson, adds a further textured aspect to the work. We hear Tilda Swinton’s voice read key excerpts from the novel, which describe a far future, where immortality for many exists and, as such, there are few children – only those who improve the species are born. In matter-of-fact, didactic tones, we are informed that a foetus gestates for 25 years and adolescence ends after a millennium. The imagery of the film is comprised mainly of memorial sculpture from the former Yugoslavia, although on screen it does look like it could be a windswept planet other than Earth, adding to the eerie disquiet of the live piece. Discovering that the photography marks terrain where Stapledon himself observed unspeakable violence added another dimension of tragedy and alienation to the work for me.
I found Adrienne Hart’s choreography of the dancers, along with Yair Elazar Glotman’s musical direction and the native sights and sounds of the film, hypnotising in a transporting way – until I was occasionally dropped from my trance by the words that spoke of lost telepathy and reliance on primitive vocal symbolism (i.e. speaking). A melancholic and enchanting depiction of bleak, dystopic existence delivered by artists of every form, Last and First Men feels apt for the times in which we live. With a non-emotional, nonjudgmental recitation of details about a world and species that destroys itself and its environment, the work offers its audience plenty of urgency to infer if so minded, but stays aloof and true to its source material.
![]()
Review by Mary Beer
Last and First Men takes Olaf Stapledon’s visionary 1930 sci-fi novel and transforms it into a deeply moving exploration of humanity’s dystopian future. The film’s vast, surreal imagery becomes a stage for movement.
A future race of humans finds itself on the verge of extinction. Almost all that’s left in the world are lone and surreal monuments, beaming their message into the wilderness. The last remnants of humanity – the last men – reach back across two billion years to speak to us, the first men.
Striking choreography breathes life into this haunting vision of a world beyond our own – one shaped by extraordinary abilities, new possibilities, and profound difference.
Created by Neon Dance
Concept & Direction: Adrienne Hart
Film: Jóhann Jóhannsson
Musical Direction: Yair Elazar Glotman
Composition: Johann Jóhannsson & Yair Elazar Glotman
Choreography: Adrienne Hart in collaboration with Fukiko Takase, Kelvin Kilonzo, Aoi Nakamura, Makiko Aoyama
Dance Performance: Fukiko Takase, Kelvin Kilonzo, Aoi Nakamura
Lighting Design: Nico De Rooij
Costume Design: Mikio Sakabe & Ana Rajcevic
Artefacts: Ana Rajcevic
Supported by: CTM Festival Berlin, Sadler’s Wells, Swindon Dance, Pavilion Dance South West
Funded by: Arts Council England
LAST AND FIRST MEN
The Coronet Theatre
26 to 28 February 2026