Three dancers sit in front of us, strapped into vests of tangled wires and electric boxes that connect to various tapes and pads on their bodies. It looks for all the world as if something terrible is about to happen, and perhaps for the dancers it is. These boxes are wired in to a computer which has been coded with a ‘score’ of electronic pulses, each of which will fire zaps into their muscles making them twinge and twitch. The choreography is pre-determined, and the robots make the decision as to which of the dancers’ body parts move.

Isaiah Wilson’s ingenious premise aims to tackle the topic of our relationship to technology: how much of ourselves are we willing to hand over to machines and what could be the consequences? There is a definite creepiness to watching the pulses pucker and dimple the dancers’ limbs and torsos. When they lift and wave their arms, an uncanny sharp floppiness hints at both the sting of the flesh and its inhuman animation: Frankenstein’s robots, if you will. But after testing his premise to a certain degree, it feels as if Wilson has nowhere else to go with it (without causing the dancers real pain). We do see hints of rebellion, in the mischievous grins and leg flexes of one dancer and the anguished tears of another. But there is no real rage against these machines.

Score, Assembly Dance Base, until 24 August, 9.40pm.