Mortal Engine is a cleverly named, high-tech sound-and-light spectacle from the Australian contemporary dance company Chunky Move. Directed and choreographed by Gideon Obarzanek, the production attempts to use the most sophisticated, interactive digital graphics (designed by Frieder Weiss, and implemented by the audiovisual artist Robin Fox) to reveal something profound about the human body in relation to itself and to other bodies. It is therefore ironic that by the time this hour-long performance reaches its laser-blasted climax, the technology seems to have superseded the human component.

The visual effects are undeniably impressive. Spinning spirals and rings expand and diminish on a large slanted floor that doubles as a projection screen. A lone female materialises in a nimbus of white light. A clump of bodies oozes on, carrying a smudgy, black collective shadow that absorbs and infects her before scurrying away. The front of the floor lifts up into two wall-like sections. That same woman is plastered against one side, sparks flying off around her. A man (one of two among six dancers) tries to contain her jerky, electrified body with his own bulkier frame, like a protective lover, but she crawls over him lizard-style and disappears.

A second couple engage in a conflicted me-and-my-shadow duet, while another couple lean and pull against the raised wall like upright sleepers whose troubled bodies leave smeary but quickly vanishing traces. The computer graphics subsequently go wild via explosions of shapes that shoot and ripple at a frantic pace to Ben Frost's soundtrack of rapid-fire beats, squelches, drillings and drones. Some of this is hallucinatory and arresting, even harrowing, with its suggestions of human beings suffering from nuclear fallout or struggling out of the primordial mire.

The movement language of Mortal Engine is necessarily limited. In dance terms the piece primarily requires performers who can respond and submit to the intense technological onslaught with a visceral strength. Of audiences it likewise demands a surrendering to the creative team's overwhelming new media razzle dazzle. There is no sense of people at peace here and correspondingly, for us, little respite from a battery of son et lumière effects. The piece ends with a trippy, vapour-drenched laser display straight out of a 1970s rock concert, an unfortunate - and dated - finish to a production that ultimately fails to offer as much illumination as it thinks it does.

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