It’s an impactful evening. Images tightly packed into 75 minutes, angularly composed and full of ruptures. A study that is stringent and colourful at the same time. Verena Billinger and Sebastian Schulz express their investigation of the body in relation to processes of society and the public. (…) It all unfolds with a scientifically dissecting gaze. The scenes convince with their thoughtful, yet unconventional findings. (…) The soundtrack is their counterpart. The sentence “They run everywhere …” in eternal repetition awakens associations to concrete poetry. (…) [A] formally inventive, highly concentrated work by this highly valued team. In a brittle way, the piece is almost mellow and humorous in its undercurrents. Frankfurter Rundschau

Every dance is political
When hearing and seeing are lost (…) Arms and legs slam down onto the dancefloor, hands grab the flesh of their counterpart, sweat starts running, a handstand becomes a test of acting skills, along with all kinds of yoga and Pilates exercises – and no one raises as much as an eyebrow. But it’s not only in this respect that ‘we dance for you’ is an ambivalent evening. (…) Just as the two choreographers don’t want to tell a story, they consistently separate the extreme physical skills of their dancers from any mimesis, as well as any emotions they might show or provoke. By pushing the physical exertion of the dancing to such an extreme, and adding such a loaded soundtrack, on this occasion they create a palpable urgency. However, the dancers’ faces remain cool and in between other things they will casually iron the odd t-shirt. (…) The “unlikely creatures” that Billinger/Schulz are concerned with are us. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung

Everything is weirdly simultaneous and weirdly contradictory and yet it does seem to represent the way of thinking and way of life of the present. (…) This shift from banality to civil war is hardly noticeable. (…) Everything remains deliberately unclear, nothing is connected with anything. Three dancers lie on the ground as if they are dead but the dancing and ironing continues. Of course the confusion created in the mind of the viewers is precisely calculated. (…) They overwhelm their viewers with a seductive, populist aesthetic and then abandon them in an accelerating and no less overwhelming end of the world. Wow, will anyone who saw part one with the beautiful elves from the past think: Is that the present? We look forward to what the future will bring. Coming soon to this theatre – in part three of Unlikely Creatures. theater:pur 

It all begins harmlessly enough. (…) So is it a grim vision of the future or a reflection of the present? Most definitely it is the end of a temptation of the people, that had begun harmlessly. Frankfurt Neue Presse

These Unlikely Creatures of our time are emotionally cold, extremely fit physically and enjoy pushing themselves to the limit. (…) The young audience generation appears to recognize these anaesthetic rituals: some of them sway along to the rhythm and smile knowingly. When they increasingly let rip and rise into ecstasy they then mutate – stirred up by the thrashing droning rhythms – into brutal dancing machines. (…) This is how darkly and pessimistically the choreographers interpret the present. Special cheers for the five dancers, who achieved all the styles of dance brilliantly. Westdeutsche Zeitung

Work, sport, sex, the army, dancing. Ironing. (…) The “unlikely” dance is fascinating in the way that it removes itself from this truly intrusive audible world. It simply flows along with the dancers calmly climbing on top of each other, doing handstands, bending their knees, arcing and twisting their upper bodies, stretching and folding their arms, sitting down, rolling. Sometimes alone, sometimes isolated but in pairs or more. Aimless glances. Kölner Stadtanzeiger

Anyone who wants to experience what intimacy means should go to the Kunsthalle today or tomorrow. Because that’s where the duo of choreographers Billinger und Schulz are presenting a new work in which it is constantly now. (…)  You feel like you’ve been blown away. Rheinische Post