La Donna è Mobile

RemoteControl may have devised this scalpel-sharp piece on an isolated Norwegian island, but they've certainly found the perfect home for it in Summerhall's clinical green-lit Demonstration Room.

When we enter, a woman is standing in a see-through evidence bag neatly tied with a bow. She is, we are told by a troupe of mincingly earnest doctors, Subject A. She's also a little bit savage. Spitting black bile into her zip-lock container, she is finally unleashed to roam and claw, the bag becoming a plastic divider behind which she can be observed.

Part of the impact of this piece is its surprise, but without spoiling the torrent of fascinating, sensual and disturbing images that follow, RemoteControl let loose the archetypal wild woman; her spirit gradually possessing those around her until a new creature is hammered out. Themes of rebirth and reclaiming the body flicker in electric fronds round the choreography; they fit, loll and slowly curl into ugly shapes.

The company's starting point was a series of 19th century photographs of women suffering from "hysteria", and uncomfortable echoes arise throughout of the past treatment of women in asylums, their bodies scrutinised, electric-shocked, stripped of autonomy.

Benign eccentricity cuts an entry point through which we can peep into RemoteControl's world, but behind the humour lies a confrontational, barbed edge and a bucketload of attitude. Not that we would wish exile on anyone, but please let this company maroon themselves again to see what they come up with next.