The Lies Men Tell

Who do we not tell the whole truth to? Do men lie to women more – or is it the other way around? And aren’t we the ones we deceive the most?

DEKKADANCERS present an evening composed of two choreographies. They will introduce two worlds connected not by love or hope, but by a simple, ordinary lie. In the first piece, Ondřej Vinklát reveals how easily we lie to ourselves – often without even wanting to admit it. In the second choreography, Štěpán Pechar takes us onto a film set full of secrets, where humorous situations abound. This time, it won’t be only the dancers’ bodies speaking to you, but also the voices of well-known personalities. And we’re not lying about that!

To Oneself (ch. Ondřej Vinklát)

“Life is a bridge—do not build a house upon it.” – V. K.

To Oneself offers a stylized perspective on human existence in a dual world. The unconscious mind tends to place itself in a position of superiority over anything that might reveal its limitations, often pushing beyond the boundaries of humanity. Life brings us back into harmony with the whole through lessons which, once acknowledged and processed, lead us toward deeper understanding. Yet sometimes we remain so indifferent to them that we fall to the very bottom—from which we may or may not rise again.

Lies Men Tell (ch. Štěpán Pechar)

This is an exemplary story – though it’s not entirely clear what it is an example of.

It has nothing to do with politics, religion, or the end of the world. Nor is it a grand tale of human adventure. It unfolds on the lowest level of everyday middle-class troubles. Simply put: it happened to a friend of mine. A fictional one, of course… yet uncomfortably familiar – from Luis Fernando Verissimo’s short story The Wedding Ring.

Lies Men Tell is a fast-paced dance ride behind the scenes of a truly disastrous film shoot, revolving around one truth that’s really hard to explain. On a film set where the script makes about as much sense as shooting butterflies with a cannon, where flirting outweighs actual work, and where lies grow faster than the director’s ego and kisses turn into slaps up until no one knows who is playing whom, or who is lying to whom.