REVIEW:

Cirque Berserk, The Anvil, Basingstoke

“THE BEST way you can find out if you trust somebody is to trust them,” Hemingway said. But what has this little pearl of wisdom from the King of Macho got to do with a circus act?

Because that’s what Cirque Berserk is, circus adapted for theatre, with all the usual acts: trapeze artists, tumblers, daredevils. And clowns. Oh God, the clowns.

The show opens with the spectacular Timbuktu Tumblers, gymnasts and superb athletes all, chaps with bodies so toned it was like looking in a mirror!

Next, “Bolas Argentinas,” a couple doing a sort of dance-cum-synchronised-arm-swinging act using those heavy weights on long cords with which South American gauchos trap cattle: think 1970’s “Clackers” performed in drag and you get the idea. Then, of course, the obligatory trapeze artists and jugglers. And clowns - the “Mustache Brothers” (sic) :Chaplinesque routines of slaps, faux tears and falls off ladders. I mean, really? We’re still meant to lap this schtick up?

The berserk bit came at the end of each half of the show: “The Globe Of Death” - four motorbike riders zooming around inside a metal ball. Horizontal, upside-down, criss-crossing paths -if you think those BMX guys are brave, take a look at this!

Clowns aside, it was impressive if un-original and predictable: street entertainment indoors. However, what you really appreciated was the absolute trust these acts put in their colleagues. If José loses concentration or makes a mistake, Jose B is going to end up in intensive care. Hemingway would surely raise a glass to such stratospheric levels of pure, unquestioning trust and machismo.

In the end, though, there’s no getting away from it; it’s all “niche” – a meagre audience of only about 200 people testified to that. But if circus, pantomime and the like float your boat, you’d enjoy this. Trust me on that.

By Chris Parkinson-Brown.