Circa are an inspired new wave of contemporary Australian circus performers who attribute themselves with redefining the art form by showcasing how extreme physicality can forge powerful and emotive experiences, whilst upholding core values of quality, audacity and humanity, and judging from this performance, every word is true. In a real depiction of the Circa style, opposites attract, and The Ugly Duckling and Swan Lake collide to become Duck Pond, cleverly tackling inherent and renowned themes of transformation, deception and the weight of how things appear to be.

As we know, a modern retelling of a classic holds much of the recipe for performance greatness, with opportunity to explore the limits of creativity and perspective, whilst paying homage to a beloved piece of culture, and this is no different. A review of this production is the definitive home for the word stunning but, in an effort to give you a full, in depth read, as varied as this production is, we will endeavour to only use it this once.

A whimsical quality intrinsic to the central theme of storytelling is introduced even before the curtain rises, from the slightest introduction and twinkle of music. The way a show grabs your attention says a lot about its creatives, in the case of Duck Pond, a cinematic standard is built across picturesque shadow work and stillness, with a closing sequence almost like credits.

The setting of the performance is largely minimalist, the perfect platform for scenes of such sheer scale, where everything is heightened – literally. An exceptional cast embody power and command with snapshots of a pleasing softness and manage to make effortless and fluid breathtaking acrobatics of imperative timing and real danger, with exceptional elegance and flexibility.

Costumes show high attention to detail, highlighted in the most character-filled humorous moment of the show, with the feeling of a Walt Disney classic - after all, what greater genius is there of anthropomorphic art? The smallest of details – a pair of red high heeled shoes, perhaps - become instantly impressive icons on this stage, dynamic shapes made all the more effective by the attitude and power in facial expressions and the air in which one holds themselves.

Despite its Ugly Duckling roots, there is no ugliness to be seen here; it is choreographed to perfection, bringing intricacy to perfect synchronisation. With all the trust, control, not to mention character and comedic choices, under their belt, they are able to achieve something absolutely incredible.

Expectation of what is to come has no effect on the hugeness of the crowd’s amazement in response, in fact it contributes. Captivated, continually on the brink between suspecting illusion and believing in magic, shocked response from the crowd ranges from gasps to grimaces as eruptions of applause ripple through the auditorium, triggered by unbelievable feats in balance.

In this stylistically and thematically queer show, music works for the bodies rather than the other way around, creating a sense of the inevitable that makes you feel the body is meant to move and express. It is through music and lighting that connection is made clear, and a story is told but unspoken. An instrumental melody builds tension, warmth is painted with strings, and we are guided in refrain through moments of power, overcoming and embrace.

Music suspends us in a moment in time, which the dancers take and mould to their own will, holding us in the palm of their hands. Aware of their audience but exceedingly self-aware as a production too, it achieves a consistent flow of stimulation in an ever-changing staging, constantly moving with consistent creativity, comedy and fluidity of movement, each number outshining the next.

The symbolism of the swan, serene and calm above with a wealth of effort and skill below the surface, is aptly shown in the Circa approach. The company tackle this performance with equality of strength and a clear effort to show form is what tells the story above character and gender, with chemistry present between all. Physicality and emotions are almost separated, talent and emotion expressed with equal intent.

In a fresh change of pace, Circa create a world to dance in but stand just short of inviting us inside. The result is an interesting, unique separation between audience and performer, a kind of superiority justified by their surrender to artistic expression and exertion.

From joyous to misunderstood, through fear and community. The narrative is no doubt an emotional journey above anything else, doing much to show the difference connection makes, proving what culture freaks like us have long suspected – that god-tier performances have human relationships at the core - and a beaming smile on a female lead’s face as they twirl gives true climactic release.

Pushing the creative boundaries further, as Circa strive to do, the show goes beyond the narrative, through the abstract to the meta. Here, the production runs the risk, for a brief transitional moment, of losing its audience. This critic, however, chooses to see it as a well-rounded exploration of all angles of connection with the audience. They strip down the façade – literally – and finally let us in. Through hints of jazz and musical theatre, we are gifted an empowering opportunity to acknowledge the people they truly are and get to know their roots.

A love letter to the capabilities of dance and performance, opening eyes to the beautiful art of circus, elevated by the cast’s prowess in musicality, Duck Pond, at its basis a mind-blowing combination of form and force, brings a somewhat unexpected depth and complexity of aesthetic to a concept that on the surface suggests bright and light.

Dramatic and theatrical, with a modern artistic feel.

**** Four stars

Reviewed by: Louisa Clarke

Circa’s Duck Pond plays at London’s Southbank Centre until 30 December, with further info here.