Boogie On The Bones

“Moscow, 1956. In the grey world of the USSR, a group of young rebels called stilyagi dared to wear bright clothes and dance to American jazz”
East European emigre theatre artists in London. A unique story, a unique style.

Boogie on the Bones by Daria Besedina opens with a simmering jazz vamp-punctuated by mechanistic, ominous dischords. Sasha Gefen has created a soundscape that immediately creates a sense of uneasy anticipation. Bold lighting from Thegeorgenet uses a spotlight search to sweep the stage, placing the audience in the position of the hunted before any action begins.

The ensemble appears, moving slowly with methodical, uniform movement, dressed entirely in grey; a generic image of post-Stalinist orthodoxy, a world where Western influences and westerners are branded “manipulative parasites”, and America becomes, for some, a mythic symbol of freedom.

Over 1 hr 40 mins, director Sofia Barysevich traces the intersecting lives of six young rebels struggling with the oppressive conformity of Soviet Russia. Mel, Fred, Betsy, Polly, Katya and Bob the doctor - characters who we later come to realise stand in for the sub-culture known as the ‘stilyagi’: the ‘style-hunters’
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The cast is a beautifully chaotic, highly skilled collective. Wearing tap shoes for most of the production, they generate a constant percussive noise, an insistent tapping that is sometimes musical and sometimes relentless and claustrophobic. The slight slips and near-falls of the cast only deepen the sense of their precarious existence, as a people hunted for their “proclivities” and who, ultimately, are never safe.

There are plenty of lively, grin-inducing dance sequences, choreographed by Anna Korzik and Wren Perkins, and I learned afterwards that the actors were all new to tap before rehearsals began, which honestly blew my mind, as the entire cast was remarkably adept.

Max Taptygin, as the stylish Fred, stands out with a swagger that nods to Fred Astaire. All performers multi-role alongside their primary characters with tremendous ease, aided by smooth, well-crafted, well-choreographed transitions, as well as live, instrumental/vocal interludes.

Eldar Shibanov’s simple and highly effective set exists as four pillar-mounted busts of political leaders—including Stalin -- which frame The Cockpit’s playing space (here in thrust layout). These monuments are later vandalised with spray paint, tinsel, and psychedelic glasses—transformed into clowns by the stilyagi. Their comic defacement sharpens the tragedy that follows: for many characters, such acts lead to exile, arrest, and death.

“I don’t want to be in this grey suit, in these grey thoughts.”

Vibrant, mismatched costumes, thanks to Anastasiia Glazova, contrast sharply with the opening grey. Mel (Andrii Zamiatin), eager to impress Polly, swaps his monotone suit for stilyagi colours, in a charming audience-assisted moment involving a coat rail. Zamiatin plays him with a trembling sincerity that is hopeful, unintentionally funny, inquisitive, and heart-wrenchingly naïve, whilst Polly (played by the striking and powerful presence of Anastasia Aush) is resplendent in red from head to toe, radiating fearless sexual and emotional freedom. But the pair’s tender, jazz-glowing romance under saturated red light is doomed from the start.

The production continually plays with the theme of “almost survival.” A memorable moment occurs when Betsy is arrested and finds out she is to be deported. Betsy (Vera Raskina) is an ethereal being, part Ophelia, part Daisy Buchanan, moving with rag-doll fluidity, and Raskina’s voice—reminiscent of Kate Bush but with an earthy, jazz vibrato—is mesmerising. Her rendition of “Sleep in peace, my beloved America,” sung before her ‘removal’ is a devastating lament for a dream she never reached. Standing centre stage and bathed in red light, whilst a yellow light from the rafters intensifies, washing the stage (and audience) in a hyperrealistic newspaper-grey, her final swan song dissolves into nostalgic memory- a symbol of all other dreamers lost to history.

Another dreamer is the sensible and shame-riddled Katya (Olga Pipchanka) - Mel’s best friend, who is secretly in love with him. She eventually takes her chance and asks him to dance. However, unlike the stilyagi, her movements are awkward and heartbreakingly desperate. She can't help but reveal herself, clearly summoning real bravery in the moment. “I never get to dance anymore,” she says, standing uncomfortably in her white lingerie. Mel rejects her, and we’re left to presume she never dances again. Pipchanka has a real flair for natural vulnerability here.

Another particularly sobering shift occurs when Polly learns she is pregnant with Mel’s child. Faced with Mel’s proposal for a makeshift “hanging crib” in their infested tenement, she strips off her makeup, hair extensions, and red outfit, choosing survival over rebellion. “We need to stop playing rebels and be real people with real responsibilities,” she says. The two argue, and Mel threatens to change his name back to its original length prior to its “unauthorised alphabetical reduction”: the deletion of ‘Stalin’ on the end of his name, which got him expelled from university. A powerful silence follows in which the couple stare at each other for what feels like slightly too long—and yet the moment is so heavy with disappointment, dawning realisation, and a shared mourning of their fleeting happiness that it perfectly captures just who these characters are and the impossibility of their circumstances.

Dr Bob (Arseniy Cassidy) is a warm, natural communicator—wholly convincing as the idealistic doctor, offering “cardiac co-ordination therapy”. Like several other characters, he addresses the audience directly, Cassidy leaning into this device with the ease of a TED Talk speaker, offering his testimony about the events we witness. Eventually, he is visited by a pair of burly, sweetly smiling KGB officers, (drawn from the company’s real life experience - but think Hans Landa from Inglorious Bastards), and is interrogated about his musical tastes.

Bob’s gentle charisma makes his offstage execution even more chilling. Before he is taken away, he offers his final words: “I believe that beauty is stronger than fear, that love is stronger than hate."

These words, I think, encapsulate the ethos of the company and of the production. As Sofia Barysevich says post curtain call, their mission is “to hold onto freedom and tellstories once censored.”

Boogie on the Bones beautifully fulfils that mission and is absolutely worth the watch. There are so many moments worth applause, but the simplest tribute must go to the company itself: this ensemble of Slavic, emigre, actor-musicians is exceptional—effortlessly blending dance, character, and live jazz (piano, saxophone, bass, and guitar). Their collective energy fuels the production’s emotional and political intensity- If the show returns, catch it when you can!

Mim from the bar

Mim Harrild

Mim works behind our bar, but is also a brilliant musician, actor and creative. 
Fun Fact: Mim has been in two productions on our stage. She was in the cast of The Threepenny Opera  - for which she received an Offie nomination, and she played Goldilocks in our family show Fairytale On Church Street. 

BOOGIE ON THE BONES played at The Cockpit 1-7 December 2025
Written by Daria Besedina

Directed by Sofia Barysevich

Produced by Within Theatre 

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