Circus Oz
Rymill Park

Circus Oz were always more fun than a bucket of frogs and their Tenth Anniversary World Tour performances at the Festival must be the best yet. They have an effortless mix of physical skill, adroit comedy, musical flair and sheer good nature.

Tim Coldwell, a founding member of the company, is a genial sight in his baggy suit and size 13 sneakers and straight away the show establishes an easy rapport with the audience.

A Bicentennial bush colonial opera is offered by a thirteen foot soprano, while a work experience girl guide gets in the way. Then, after a rapid rearrangement of weaponry, other players take up guitars, cellos, saxophones, percussion and Lord knows what else as the first of the high wire acts begins.

With my programme pulled over my face I gleaned what sounded like high-walker Michael Ling doing some nimble work while clowning Coldwell pretended to be stuck half way. Just as well we had been taught early in the evening to do the Gasp of Admiration and Terror.

Circus Oz has two directors – founder Robin Laurie and guest director Emil Wolk – late of the celebrated People Show and the RSC’s Kiss Me Kate. Wolk’s stylish brand of visual comedy is pleasingly evident in the latest show. A deadpan collection of lawn bowlers come out twittering and chatting. As they begin the head they gradually start forming human pyramids which end up with a four-tiered miracle amidst surreal comedy.

The highpole work, learned from Chinese acrobats from Nanjing, is a great display of agility and timing as performers snap their limbs around the pole, climbing and sliding with what can only be called the greatest of ease.

The second half opens with a fire-eating act all set to go. Parafin everywhere, Happy the circus pyromaniac, assisted by the girl guide in contention for her arsonist’s badge, is just about to light the touchpaper of Anni Davey’s tutu when the Bicentennial Inspector Smith (Matthew Hughes) turns a fire extinguisher on the whole thing and begins an astonishingly adept trampoline act.

Circus Oz wear their skills lightly but they have become highly proficient. Tim Coldwell as a film noir shamus with fedora and fag, hangs vertically from the roof thirty feet up. The skit is full of droll moments and upside-down jokes. “I walk out of a lonely efac,” he intones closing the cafe door. It’s a clever idea, stylishly performed.

Then aerialist Theresa Blake did some solo rope work while the Oz orchestra played some of Matthew Fargher’s hybrid music. Under red and blue spots with mesmeric didgeridoo riffs Blake swung like a top on the rope. What I managed to see from between my fingers was appallingly skilful.

Circus Oz give a great show – exuberant, hilarious and theatrically confident. The pace never slackens and the closeness to the audience is a delight. This is accessible, committed entertainment proving that you can be popular and still make the customers think.

Murray Bramwell

“Maximus” The Adelaide Review, No.49, March, 1988, p.31.