Pss Pss

It’s a measure of how much Camilla Pessi and Simone Fassari are able to charm their audience, that within minutes of appearing on stage they draw a round of applause for tossing an apple from hand to hand.

Pss Pss, from Switzerland-based Baccalà, is about as classic as the art of clowning comes; short-trousered, frilly-bloomered, flower-pot hatted, Pessi and Fassari could have stepped straight off the set of Fellini’s La Strada. By the end of the show their elastic eyebrows and Charlie Chaplain pouts make you want to hug them.

They play around with their relationship to each other, invoking jealousy, neediness, competition and wonder. But seen through the lens of a clown these are all are pared down to their basest forms; when Pessi covets a banana from Fassari he is torn between his own greed and the morally correct act of sharing, and the agony of the decision etched into his face is priceless in its pathos.

It’s this honesty that makes Pss Pss so utterly loveable. The acrobatics are top notch, their carefully measured clumsiness so convincing that you often find yourself catching your breath. And their interaction with the audience, implicating us in their mischief, plants a seed of laughter that just keeps growing until the bumbling climax. Letting two clowns loose on a trapeze is always going to be a recipe for trouble, and Baccalà don’t disappoint. With all the desperate innovation going on at the Fringe it’s nice to be reminded that sometimes the old tricks are the best.