Dance Marathon, Barbican Pit, London<br/>Armitage Gone! Dance, Queen Elizabeth Hall, London

What, no blisters? An attempt to revive a craze from the 1920s disappoints

The peak of their popularity was in Depression era America, so the conditions are heading the right way for a revival of dance marathons.

In the 1920s and 1930s contestants approached these contests in deadly earnest, spurred by serious-money prizes and the promise of celebrity. Dubious substances would be consumed to help dancers stay awake, the soles of feet pickled to toughen them for action. The longest marathon on record ran for 22 weeks, three-and-a-half days, and eventually the insalubriousness of such events (and a handful of deaths) led to their being outlawed.

In its publicity, the Canadian company Bluemouth inc. fancifully channels the desperate mood of that louche, historic phenomenon, but in practice Dance Marathon, presented under the aegis of Dance Umbrella, offers rather an easy ride. Structured as a contest with prizes and vaudeville interludes along the way, it also takes cues from reality television, with cheesy "exit interviews" beamed on screens as the latest unfortunate tries to find an intelligent response to: "So how does it feel to be eliminated?"

That's not the only clumsy misjudgement in this three-and-a-half hour experience (they have ways of ensuring it doesn't over-run). Contestants, which in effect means everyone who buys a ticket since there's nowhere to sit in the stripped-out Barbican Pit, are each paired with a stranger for the evening, a strategy whose purpose is unclear. What need for a partner when most of the dancing is freestyle disco? There's the odd attempt at teaching some social dances: the Texan two-step ("simple because it comes from a state with simple people in it") and the Madison (too complex to learn in the time, not least as you couldn't see the teacher's feet).

Cast members, disguised as contestants, emerge incognito to do speciality turns – a zesty Charleston by a roly-poly woman, a peculiarly maudlin poem by a man disingenously introduced as "a drama student from New Jersey" who turns out to be the co-creator of the show. Some of the best song or dance routines come from genuine participants, who have pre-selected themselves by signalling any special talent on a questionnaire before the start (I put "soup-making" to avoid any trouble). On the night I went, we got a raucous song about being Belgian and a committed tango by a girl in Ugg boots – the surest sign that she hadn't known what she was in for when she left the house.

Overall, though, the concept of Dance Marathon proves more appealing than its execution. The most enjoyable element is the five-piece covers band which earns its stripes across a tireless range of styles, from Hawaiian hula to hoary stomps such as "YMCA". My main gripe is that Bluemouth inc. appears to promise one thing (a contest of endurance) and delivers another: the eliminations, entirely arbitrary, make a mockery of skill and determination. There may well be a future for the dance marathon, 21st-century style, but this is not it.

When Karole Armitage created the piece Drastic Classicism in 1981 New York, she paved the way to punkdom for Michael Clark and others in her brutal yanking of classical moves. Thirty years on, the attitude once deemed so alarming looks like shallow theatrics as Armitage's oddly named company, Armitage Gone! Dance, dig out the shredded black leggings and practise their Sid Vicious scowls. These kids weren't born when Sid took his name from Johnny Rotten's pet hamster, so little wonder this feels like playing at dressing-up, complete with mimed spitting and staggering about as if under the influence of glue.

A more memorable feature of this rare revival was the audience it drew: gents in suits approaching retirement who showed no sign of flinching at the aural onslaught of four guitars and drumkit, each round-shouldered geek, wrists blurring, immured in the communal wall of sound.

Just as unconvincing, despite Armitage's intelligent spoken introduction, was a recent work inspired by quantum physics and string theory – virtually the same moves, minus the slutty attitude. Ho hum.

'Dance Marathon' (0844 412 4312), last performance 3pm today.

Next Week:

Jenny Gilbert zones out to Lucinda Childs' 1979 American classic, Dance

Dance Choice

Alongside other events in a Focus on Alston strand, Dance Umbrella presents Richard Alston Dance Company at its London home theatre. As well as a bill of early works that showcase its versatility, there's a new work set to a Mozart piano sonata played live. At the Robin Howard Dance Theatre, The Place (Wed to Sat).