Knee Deep

Knee Deep is an astounding hour of circus. A sinuous, acrobatic display of strength and control, to rewrite your concept of human capabilities.

At its core there's a simple dichotomy: force and fragility. It's elegantly expressed by the opening image of a performer striding over cartons of eggs, distributing her weight across their shells.

The dizzyingly skilled Casus troupe fling one another through the air and create impossible structures of tensed muscle, each routine smashing through expectation and creating audible gasps from the open-mouthed audience. Again and again brutal forces are pitted against delicate objects, and the performers' raw power is mediated by gestures of care and reciprocity.

There's a rough narrative of shifting relationships, of characters treading on eggshells and balancing themselves against one another, but essentially Knee Deep is pure spectacle. There's a deliberate sideshow flavour to an understated blockhead routine and an agonising walk on curled toes, but in a sense the entire show sets out to shock and amaze. It's rare to see performers aim for and thoroughly achieve a repeated sense of pure wonder, but Casus have managed it with eye-popping dexterity. They even find time to include a muted origami scene and moments of surprising humour. An attempt to swat a fly transforms into an incredible beatbox of the body, slapped flesh and cracking joints rolling like drums.

You'll leave with a jaw that aches from dropping, and a suspicion that gravity may not be the all powerful force it's cracked up to be.