BECKET, Mass. — Ballroom dancing is all about two bodies moving seamlessly as one. Mimulus Dance Company takes that fluid form and warps it into a mutant expression of misogyny and wit.

I realize those two sensibilities are incompatible. But this Brazilian ensemble, as seen at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival this week, is just quirky enough that they get away with placing the two side-by-side. Thus, as the audiences watches Mimulus’ newest work, “Dolores,” emotions swing from horrified to titillated to bemused.

Inspired by films

The new work is inspired by the films of Pedro Almodovar (“Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown,” “Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down” and “Volver”). Choreographer, dancer and Artistic Director Jomar Mesquita embraces Almodovar’s use of color, unquenchable desire and pop music.

Scenic designers Ed Andrade and Osla Arquitetura then take the concept and drop it behind a scrim-like curtain. As the action unfolds behind this veil of thinly stripped and stretchable fabric, it feels like the craziness of “Dolores” is on screen. The audience is either watching a movie or TV. And everyone knows, American viewers can easily digest globs of violence when it’s on a screen.

“Dolores” tries to be a soap opera spoof with four couples indulging their sexual desires and then slapping each other silly. The women suffer the brunt of the violence. They are dragged, strangled and pulled by their hair from start to finish.

The men swagger, grab their chosen women by whatever body part or clothing item they can reach — there is a lot of shirt pulling and twisting — and then manipulate them physically. If you don’t image the intention behind the movements, the steps are fascinating. These dancers tango, samba and run through the salsa and merengue and then toss off a touch of capeoira with ease.

Multilingual songs

They move through a catalog of Spanish, English and French songs, including Jacques Brel’s “Ne Me Quitte Pas,” Nicolette’s “I Woke Up” and Agustin Lara’s “Piensa en Mi.” Each tune, from desirous to plucky, sets the stage for a brief encounter. For example, Mesquita watches lustily a spinning Juliana Macedo behind vertical blinds. After he devours her and carries her away, limp and lifeless, Nayane Diniz clutches at Welbert de Melo’s bottom. They then cling in a passionate dance of push and pull.

Every now and then, a matronly figure walks out, wags her finger at a dancer and pulls them away by the ear.

Comic relief comes in other forms, too, such as when Macedo looks shocked and crosses herself as she watches two women embraced in a kiss. There is also the scene where Aline Tombini staggers as she tries to dance with her hair in her face. By the way, it is her partner, Daniel Vidal, who blinds her.

But the humor doesn’t rescue “Dolores” enough. One is simply left with the impression that the surrendering of one’s soul for sex is dangerous indeed.