The big problem with A Circus Affair is that its performers, Sarita and Mr Kiko, spend too little time doing what they are good at (circus) and far too much time filling out the show into a woefully uninteresting love story.
Sarita and Mr Kiko are better than your average street performers. The Australian duo juggle, hula-hoop, dance and perform choreographed acrobatics with some skill; there are occasional mistakes, but the tricks being attempted are challenging enough that they are easily overlooked. The opening sequence is low-key and charming, as Mr Kiko glides in standing on an inflatable ball, and wrestles a helium balloon into a suitcase. It’s unspectacular, but characterful and genial.
The trouble starts with the narrative: Sarita and Mr Kiko meet at an audition, get cast as a double act, fight, fall in love, fall out of love, fall back into love, get married, have children. Each phase of this story takes up far too much time, rendering the actual circus tricks subordinate. It’s extraordinarily tedious and unfunny, and really lets down what talent the pair do have.
The mode of storytelling gropes towards replicating the techniques of silent cinema, as mimed narrative actions take place to a jaunty soundtrack. There’s a particularly frustrating central section that is entirely told through projected video, with Mr Kiko simply lying on stage, asleep. It’s not exactly what a paying audience should expect to see. It burns minutes, and it’s a cop-out.
The ‘romantic’ element of the play is even occasionally unintentionally sinister - in one video, Mr Kiko pursues a clumsily sexualised Sarita with a love potion. There’s a lot of gratuitous thigh-rubbing and awkward physical contact that is at odds with the overall tone of the show.
It’s a shame, really, because the pair really do have a certain charm and perform some excellent acrobatics. It must admittedly be difficult to stretch a two-person circus act to a full-length show but A Circus Affair is unimaginative and banal in its overall execution.
