Take, Take, Take It Yeah (the first of two premiers) is one of its bagatelles. Danced by Headlong's three original members (David Brick, Andrew Simonet and Amy Smith), it offers a series of over-the-top snapshots of dance styles "inspired" by a succession of pop sax solos: lyrical, voguing/angular, jazzy, inspirational, go-go-ish . In this food court of stock choices, the message seems to be that everything ends up tasting about the same. Take, Take is like the '80s-era collage-paintings of David Salle, only more fun.

In the second premiere, Story of a Panic, based on the E.M. Forster story, a darker subtext takes over. The pasted-on cheer of the six dancers at the beginning (established to the cheesy strains of "Somewhere My Love") is perforated by increasing moments of terror, and escalating efforts to return to normal. There is some good body-flinging in the panicky parts, and the murmuring toward the end, as they try to remember themselves, is scary.

ST*R W*RS was bigger, messier and more touching than anything else here. First performed at this year's Fringe Festival, refined slightly since its run at New York's Dance Theater Workshop, it is both homage to film and a painful coming-of-age memoir, a loose retelling of the movie conflated with teen party scenes from the '70s, when the Star Wars juggernaut was launched. In one brilliant moment, for Princess Leias (Smith, Nichole Canuso, Christy Lee and Heather Murphy, all wearing brown earmuffs) simultaneously reenact her holo-recorded plea to Obiwan Kenobi. What a marvelous condensation of several layers: the original scene (itself a series of repetitions) with the longing of teenage girls, and the emotional immersion in the movie made possible by VCR culture.

At moments like this, it seems that Headlong is playing us, plucking the strings of our collective media-memory like a virtuoso harpist. But ST*R W*RS goes beyond this, showing how real passion gets pasted onto pop-culture icons in a media-saturated world.