Big Kid Circus goes ape (big time!)

With its jungle scenery and a contortionist performing in the palm of a 30-foot-tall animatronic ape, could Kingdom of Kong, the new show by Big Kid Circus be the best looking show touring the UK this year?

Big Kid is celebrating its 20th anniversary, and with Kingdom of Kong, directed by Julia Kirilova, it proves why circus will never die: the big top's perpetual ability to introduce new, never-before-seen spectacle.

With a storyline in which the clowns are explorers trying to steal a diamond from an African tribe, the show also includes the world's only all-female Globe of Death motorcyclists and a very fresh-looking basketball-meets-springboard act.

Atmospheric music and lighting, and a view through ringside flora that transforms the performance area into a jungle clearing, create a fully immersive experience with a completely different appearance to traditional images of sawdust and canvas.

And if the above picture doesn't make you want to buy a ticket, what would???

For venues click here.

 

No, not a circus act...

 

... but British armoured cars disguised as elephants in Burma in WW2.

Short Story: One Day In The Future

What would Philip Astley, the Father of the Circus, make of today’s animal-free big top? Find out in this timeslip story by Douglas McPherson, which originally appeared in My Weekly. In 1794, flames lit up the night sky. Astley’s Amphitheatre, the greatest hippodrome in London, was ablaze. The streets south of Westminster Bridge were full of smoke and running men. Philip Astley hadn’t seen such chaos since the war against the French, which he’d fought his way through on horseback, sword in hand. At least he’d got all the horses out of the arena, and the people, with no lives lost. The business he’d built for twenty years, he couldn’t save. Choked with smoke and physically spent, England’s greatest showman staggered into a dark lane. He fell against a wall and then to the ground. His world dissolved into blackness. Two-hundred-and-thirty years later, the sun rose over a man laying on the pavement. He opened his eyes and blinked. “Patty?” He grabbed the wrist of the woman leaning over him. “I’m not Patty, sir, I’m Jane – a paramedic.” “The fire!” The man’s eyes appeared to focus. “Where’s Patty?” “What fire is that, sir?” It had been a long shift, but Jane hadn’t heard of any conflagrations in the area. “My amphitheatre! It was ablaze.” “Try to stay still, sir, until I see if you're injured.” Jane put the man at around 50 – twice the age of the typical male she found passed out on a pavement after a party. He’d clearly been to some kind of event. He wore knee-high black boots, white breeches and a short red tunic with rows of gold braid across the front, like a member of a marching band. His clothes and face were smeared with soot and he smelt of smoke. “Can you tell me your name, sir?” “Philip Astley.” “As in the man who invented the circus?” Jane realised his clothes were a circus outfit. “Yes, that’s me,” he said without smiling. “Fancy dress party, was it? So what’s your real name?” “That is my real name!” Brushing aside her protests, he climbed to his feet. He was tall and powerfully built. “Where am I?” “Cornwall Road, Lambeth,” Jane told him. “I don’t recognise these buildings.” Philip’s eyes widened as a car sped past Jane’s ambulance, which was parked on the kerb. “What in the name…? Carriages without horses?” “I think you may have hit your head,” said Jane. “Can you tell me the date?” “The 17th… no, that was yesterday. The 18th of September, 1794.” “Try adding a couple of centuries,” said Jane. “It’s the 18th of September ….2024.” “What nonsense do you speak?” Philip demanded. “Does it look like 1794 to you?” Jane asked. “No.” Philip rubbed his chin. “It does not.” A thunderous rumbling made him spin around. He watched in wonder as a train rolled over a bridge. “Is this witchcraft?” he mused. “But hold on! If this is the future, how would you recognise my name and know of my circus?” “My dad’s a circus fan,” Jane grinned. “And there’s a blue plaque over there.” Philip followed her pointing finger along the pavement. High on the orange brick wall was a blue disc.

ASTLEY’S

Philip and Patty Astley first staged spectacular horse-riding feats nearby in 1768.

Adding acrobats and clowns they created what we know as

CIRCUS

Cupped in the bottom of the circle were the words 250th anniversary 2018. Philip stared at the memorial like a man who had found his own grave. Jane gazed at him and shivered. She’d never believed in ghosts or time travel, but an icy feeling was making her pulse race. Taking out her phone, she looked up Astley’s Wikipedia page. “Sir, what is your date of birth?” “8th of January, 1742,” he answered automatically. “Place of birth?” “Newcastle-under-Lyme.” Jane’s throat tightened as she checked the information. “When did you open your amphitheatre?” “Twenty years ago, in 1773.” “And your riding school before that?” “Just after the war. 1768.” “What regiment did you serve in?” “The Light Dragoons,” Philip snapped. “Why?” Jane thought it was a lot of backstory for a fancy dress party-goer to memorise. But he couldn’t really be Astley, could he? Jane stared queasily at the date Astley’s first amphitheatre had burned down: it would have been last night, 230 years ago. “Do you have any ID on you?” she asked. “ID?” Philip frowned, as if she'd used a foreign word. “Anything in your pockets that might help us… clear this up.” He checked, and Jane prayed he would find a driving licence that would prove he was John Ordinary, born in the 1970s. “Looks like I have just a few farthings to my name.” Jane looked at the coins in his palm. The pavement wobbled beneath her. She was no coin collector, but she knew at a glance that the money was 18th century. “I think we should have a doctor take a look at you,” Jane said carefully. “A ride in your horseless carriage?” Philip flashed a showman’s grin. “If this is a dream, I might as well enjoy it.” Late that afternoon, Philip stood in a hospital gown, staring from an upstairs window at a London he didn’t recognise. The dream that he’d begun to enjoy had long lost its novelty. He wondered impatiently if he would ever wake – and, more worryingly, if he was dreaming at all. The door of his room opened and he turned to see Jane. She’d changed from her paramedic overalls to a jumper and long skirt. “Ah, a visitor to the lunatic asylum.” Amid all the confusion of the day, Jane had been a kindly presence and he was glad to see her again. She reminded him of his darling Patty: a strong, capable woman. When he’d set out his first ring in the open air on Lambeth marsh, Patty had played the drum while he performed tricks on horseback, standing on the galloping animal’s back with his sword brandished aloft. Patty had ridden her own horse in the show – side saddle with no reins and her hands in the air, gloved in two swarms of bees that buzzed around her, to the amazement of the crowd. “It’s not an asylum, it’s a hospital,” Jane gently corrected him. “An asylum is where you think I belong, though, isn’t it?” Philip said grimly. “You all think I’m mad – and perhaps I am.” “Not mad. Maybe confused.” Jane said it without conviction, because it was she who was baffled. “I’ve brought your clothes. Freshly dry cleaned.” She put his tunic, shirt and breeches on the bed. They’d turned out to be not a costume. Not the modern fancy dress type, anyway. A silk label inside the tunic identified its tailor and date of manufacture: 1790. She supposed it could be an antique, but it looked almost new. “The doctor did a DNA test and there’s no record of you anywhere,” Jane said. “You don’t match any missing persons. The address you gave no longer exists.” “Then I’m to be locked up here?” “You’re not a prisoner. You’re free to go at any time,” said Jane, although she wondered where he could go with just a handful of 18th century change. “I’d be better off locked up.” Philip indicated a newspaper he’d been reading. “Out there seems to be the madhouse.” “The doctor recommends you stay here a few days to see if…” Jane stopped herself saying, “... you remember who you really are.” “In the meantime,” she said, “I had an idea, and the doctor agreed it might be worth a try. We wondered if you’d like to go to the circus?” It was a balmy evening, with the sun just setting, as they walked across the heath towards the lights of a red-and-yellow big top. On Jane’s right were her husband and two children. On her left, Philip and her dad, Mike, were locked in lively conversation. She smiled at the sound of the two men getting on so well, as her dad filled Philip in on 250 years of circus history. Mike didn’t believe for a moment that he was talking to the real Philip Astley, but he could talk about the circus for hours with anyone who would listen – and he seldom met anyone who was prepared to! “Look how popular your creation remains!” Mike enthused as they joined the crowd converging on the tent. At the entrance they were met by an usher wearing a similar tunic to Philip’s. “Are you a circus man?” the usher asked. “Indeed I am.” “Which show?” “My own: Philip Astley’s!” “Good one, mate!” The usher laughed. “Enjoy the performance.” They took their seats at ringside and Jane began to doubt her reasoning behind the outing. Would taking Philip to a circus really break his delusion that he invented the entertainment – or might it deepen his belief? And how realistic was her other half-formed hope, that a confused homeless man might find refuge in a business where he thought he belonged? She wondered if he actually had any skills to offer a travelling show. The show began and Jane cast sideways glances at Philip. The lights gleamed in his eyes as he watched transfixed the clowns, tightrope walkers and trapeze artists. “What do you think of it?” she asked between acts. “No horses,” he said, sadly. “But even so…” “Instead of horses, there are bikes!” Mike beamed. They watched a quartet of Chinese girls pedal around the ring, then stand on their saddles – no hands! – the way Astley had stood on horseback centuries before. At the end of the show, the packed audience rose in a standing ovation. Philip thumbed his eyes. “I’m quite overcome. Excuse me. I need a little air.” He left his seat and Jane touched her dad’s arm. “You’d better keep an eye on him.” “Of course.” It took a while for the audience to file out. When Jane and her family emerged on the dark heath, she looked around for her dad and Philip – and saw only her dad. “Where is he?” “I’m sorry, Jane, I lost sight of him.” For the next half hour they searched inside and outside the tent until there was no one left around but the circus staff, none of whom had seen Philip. “He can’t have disappeared,” said Jane’s husband. Trembling in the chill, Jane wondered if he had – as mysteriously as he’d arrived. In the dark grass, something glinted. She picked it up: a bronze farthing. It was the last trace she ever found of the man who thought he was Philip Astley. Philip opened his eyes and blinked in the morning sun. The air stank of smoke, but there was no roar of fire – the inferno must have burnt itself out. A woman leaned over him. “Patty?” “Oh, Philip, you’re all right!” His wife’s face was streaked with tears. “I searched all night and couldn’t find you. I must have walked past this very –” He cut her off by pulling her to him and kissing her lips with a deeper gratitude than he had ever felt before. “I’m back!” His eyes soaked up the familiar buildings. He climbed to his feet. “I had the strangest dream… or was it a vision, a glimpse of a possible tomorrow?” “The amphitheatre is completely destroyed.” Patty’s eyes were empty. “Then we’ll rebuild it! Come, Patty,” he took her hand. “We have history to make.” About to lead her away, the showman paused and frowned. For a moment he thought he’d seen something on a nearby wall. A blue plaque… But no, it was a shadow. Shrugging, he put his free hand into his pocket and was surprised to find a small piece of paper.

He took it out: a ticket. On it was printed: Zippos Circus, 18.09.2024.

Woke war on Christmas! Review of Big Apple Circus, Hometown Playground

Has Christmas gone out of fashion? In London's Winter Wonderland, Zippos' seasonal show is the distinctly un-Christmassy (but distinctly classy) Candyland - read my review here. Well, I guess the venue is 'Winter' Wonderland, not Christmas Wonderland.

Over the pond, meanwhile, Big Apple Circus has also dodged the Yuletide spirit to present Hometown Playground, themed not around Santa's workshop but around the five boroughs of New York.

I can hear the splutters of outrage from the gammons on the right: "Woke war on Christmas! We're not allowed to celebrate Christmas anymore!"

These would be the same people who leave Trip Advisor comments like, "It's not a circus without animals!" Despite the fact that  - news flash! - Hometown Playground includes a poodle act. Yes, animals in the circus. How un-woke is that?? 

Personally, the canine capers of the Cartoon Poodles left me a little cold. While I've championed circus animals in the past, I feel like we closed that chapter of big top history several years ago and it's time to move on. A slick modern, all-human circus just looks better to me these days - the shows certainly look like they're doing better at the box office without all that 'cruel circus' baggage - and the inclusion of the dogs in the Big Apple tent feels like a relic from a bygone age. Especially after the resounding success of last year's all-human Big Apple show, which was provided in collaboration with Circus Theatre Roncalli - read my review here.

Maybe I'm just too woke.

But hey, the circus was woke before our grandparents were born. The big top was diverse and inclusive before anyone else was. It's always been performed by absolutely everyone for absolutely everyone, and not everyone celebrates Christmas, so why exclude them from a wintertime night out?

Personally, I'm no Scrooge. I actually put up a Christmas decoration this year (just the one, but it's on my front door, so not like I'm hiding it). But I'm not fussed about a lack of tinsel in the circus as long as it's a good show - and Big Apple has served up a (forgive me!) cracker this year.

My favourite act is Alex Petrov who does an upside down walk (pictured above). I guess he's held on by wires rather than magnetic shoes or Spider-Man powers, but he really does look like a human fly as he bounces a ball on his upside down floor, and tries to drink water - which pours down to the real floor.

Speaking of water, America's Got Talent winners the three Human Fountains make a hilarious act out of drinking water and spitting it out.

Another highlight is the slick and acrobatic three-way juggling of the Zsilak Trio Jugglers in their colourful 1960s-style costumes (below).

There are big acts on the bill, too. Antoly Huaman Brazzan is a thriller on the Wheel of Destiny (is that the new woke name for the Wheel of Death?). When he trips on his skipping rope and nearly falls from the top of the huge rotating wheel he draws gasps and screams from an audience on the edge of its seats. He then gets massive cheers when he skips not just successfully but with aplomb, leaping high into the roof of the tent as the wheel revolves.

A hot jazz soundtrack adds to Brazzan's energetic performance. It's the same sort of music they're using at Zippos this year, hot jazz clearly being in fashion if Christmas music ain't.

A Russian swing act, hurling its performers high into a sail-like safety net is similarly impressive, as is the climatic flying trapeze act by the Flying Poemas. Again, an exciting soundtrack adds, well, excitement, with the audience clapping along as the daring young men somersault between the swings.

As the show takes us around New York from Coney Island, where we find ace pick-pocket Michael Halvarson, to Harlem, where Mihret Mekonnen rides a unicycle on the slack wire, a circular gauze curtain is periodically lowered to fully enclose the stage. New York street images of road signs and neon signs are projected onto the gauze in a very pleasing visual effect.

The gauze is also used to surround aerial globe artist Sofia Petrov in the bewitching illusion of falling snow. 

Well, it wouldn't be New York at Christmas without snow - even if the snow falls without a hint of Christmas music.

Hometown Playground is at the Lincoln Centre until 5 January.

 

Zippos' Christmas Treat. Review of Candyland at Winter Wonderland, Hyde Park

Zippos' Christmas show at Winter Wonderland. I know what you're thinking. Christmas songs, Santa hats, snowballs, a giant Father Christmas...

Well, think again. Zippos did that last year, and magnificently - read my review here.

This year, the company has gifted us something completely different. Apart from a jazzed-up snatch of Jingle Bells during the slapstick tumbling routine of the Munoz Brothers, there's nothing Christmassy about Candyland. And yet, with its stage dressing of cakes, chocolate and other sweets, this colourful cabaret-style circus fits perfectly into the holiday season.

Zippos has brought Candyland to London fresh from its debut this autumn at the Roncalli Apollo Theatre in Dusseldorf, complete with original set, props and the husband and wife directing team of Ms Lina Veres and Mr Oleksandr Leshchenko, and with just a few tweaks for UK audiences, such as the familiar face of ringmaster Attila Endresz.

The European theatricality - such as a team of Ukrainian dancers in cake frocks - and an upbeat soundtrack of hot jazz and pop - with a smidgen of pumped up Carmen - gives the production a look and feel refreshingly different from any other big top show in the UK this year.

But it's not just the dressing that makes Candyland a winner. The compact 45 minute run time is full of world class acts that will thrill even seasoned circus watchers.

The opening cradle act by Argentina's Duo Plok (above) gets things off to a cracking start. In all my years of ringside reporting, I haven't seen this act before*. That in itself is a treat, when so many circuses field the same acts as one another, making it hard to tell shows apart.

The male half of the act stands, legs apart, high up on two poles. He takes the hands of his female partner, who is standing on his shoulders, then swings her between his legs, tossing her into a somersault and catching her by the ankles.

The physicality of the act is thrilling, and is perfectly complemented by the energetic music, costuming and facial expressions of the performers. They are actors, in character, as much as they are gymnasts, and their charisma draws us into the show.

Next up, the doll-like Nataliia Gurieva performs a superior aerial hoop routine while hand balancer Serhii Ivanov performs atop a podium decorated as a three-tier cake. The stands he performs on resemble candles on the cake, which adds to the cohesive look of the show.

In a similar way, an elegant low-wire routine by Anna Usakova (who was part of Zippos touring season this year) is augmented by ground-based dancers in flowing golden dresses that match hers.

A definite highlight is the juggling of Dmytro Bakhtin - a superb display of ball handling in itself, but lifted to new showbizzy heights by the novelty of him being dressed as Mozart, complete with onstage piano.

The programme is completed by aerial strap artist Daniel Lakner, the Tangier Troupe of Moroccan acrobats and the aforementioned Munoz Brothers. The latter put a neat twist on the old bucket of water gag by pretending to throw a chair into the audience - a real jump scare for those in the vicinity!

Mention must be made, though, of ringmaster Attila Endresz who adds comedy with a fresh twist on the wandering spotlight routine, ending it with the payoff of a spike through the seat of a descending swivel chair.

Endresz also leads the company in getting the audience to stand up and dance, complete with actions, which by that point, towards the end of a punchy show, everyone is more than willing to do.

It's a moment that brings real warmth and togetherness to a show that I would say is probably the best 45 minutes you'll spend in a big top this year.

Candyland runs three times a day at 13:00, 14:30 and 16:00 until January 5. For bookings, click here.

*Update: I've since learned that Duo Plok's act is also variously called 'Russian cradle' or 'aerial casting'. There's also a 'full' version of the act in which the flyer is tossed between two catchers on opposite sides of the ring. Zippos apparently had such an act a few years ago, and it's definitely one I hope returns to the UK at some point.

 

Olympic gold-winner joins Cirque du Soleil

British trampolinist Bryony Page, who won gold at the Paris Olympics has bounced into a new career by joining Cirque du Soleil.

"I love the idea of performing in the show and using trampoline in a different way," said the Poole-based 33-year-old who hopes to be on tour with Soleil next year.

Page will be following in the footsteps of British gymnast Lucie Colebeck whose story I told here.

 

Ghosts of Circus Past by Tina Glam and the Glam Rockers

A new hard rocking version of a song about the ghosts, real and metaphorical, that haunt the big top.

 

Do not try this at home!

 

Circus star sets two world records

Australian aerial hoop performer Charli Meath set two Guinness World Records this year: Most aerial hoop somersaults in one minute (female) – 53 – and the longest duration shoulder blade hang on aerial hoop - 63.18 seconds

 

Mirror Man at Pinders Circus

The best costume in a British circus ring this year must surely belong to juggler Mirror Man, at Pinders Circus.