Canberra Reviews

From the producers of The Illusionists comes Cirque Alice, a luminous tumble down the rabbit hole that trades logic for spectacle in this magical exploration of a beloved classic.

We are led gently into Wonderland by a charming, faintly solemn White Rabbit, with a violin tucked beneath his chin. He becomes our guide and pulse, stitching the acts together with a quiet musical through-line. It’s an elegant device, that Darius Thomson carries with skill and a unique character that shines throughout.

Alice (Layla Schillert) herself is visually perfect – all wide eyes and a divine blue frock that matches her storybook quality. Her aerial reveal, with an unfurling that grows from floor to ceiling, is pure theatre magic:  setting the tone beautifully. And yet, she remains mostly an observer. For a character built on curiosity, she’s given little agency or depth. We watch her watch. I would have enjoyed more fire, more wonder, more risk in her.

But where narrative softens, the circus artistry soars.

The Tweedles are a burst of joy – precise, mischievous, delightfully elastic – their acrobatics both technically exceptional and playfully human. Brandon Raffo’s juggling is simply out of this world: using just balls and clubs, he offered the cleanest, most extraordinary and entertaining display I’ve ever witnessed. Objects seem magnetised to him, gravity temporarily suspended.

And then the Ramadhani Brothers as the White and Red Knights – a headstand duel that had the entire theatre holding its breath. My ten-year-old companion sat bolt upright, mouth open, hands clasped in suspense. Honestly, so did I. It’s one of those rare sequences where virtuosity becomes storytelling: strength, rivalry, trust, all expressed with their heads connected! They are a dynamic duo that emanate rays of joy throughout the auditorium.

So often contemporary circus can feel like a string of tricks – impressive but hollow. This production, thankfully, carries heart alongside skill. There’s care in the staging, warmth in the ensemble, and a genuine desire to honour the beloved classic.

If there’s a shadow, it’s the curious absence of true madness from the Mad Hatter and that missing spark of curiosity in Alice herself.

I would be remiss however if I didn’t mention the Hatter’s (Raymond Crowe) impressively adept shadow puppet sequence as a stand-out experience of skill and wonder.

Audiences will not be disappointed. Cirque Alice is a night of astonishment and delight – a celebration of bodies doing the impossible, and of theatre’s enduring ability to make us feel like children again, peering down the rabbit hole, hopeful for what might appear next.

Chenoeh Miller is a theatre director, artist producer and sometimes reviewer, based on Ngunnawal Country in Canberra.