The Little Soldiers

Two men, one woman; there are always going to be problems. In Theatre Re's circus remake of the Cain and Abel story, a pair of acrobat brothers battle it out for the heart of a tightrope walker through storms, stunts and rather a lot of abstract mime.

This is the problem with The Little Soldiers; it feels a bit like peeping into someone else's dream. The creamy white palette and tactile costumes, the actors' strange grace, and Alex Judd's ethereal score create a dizzyingly beautiful world. But it's sometimes hard to grasp hold of exactly what is happening. One minute they're swinging from the tightrope, the next they're falling from an impossible height. The setting Re creates out of nothing is limpid and tangible, but slip your concentration for a second and the narrative is lost. It seems they caper from outer reality to inner dreamland without thought for how quickly the audience can keep up. And when everything you're looking at is invisible, it's pretty tough. In this sense, Re demands too much of their crowd.

There is however a level on which The Little Soldiers can be enjoyed just for its sheer luscious dust-lit circus atmosphere. Judd's live-looping musical tricks conjure up thunderstorms and create syncopated rhythms from a single clapped beat. And when Selma Roth dons a ladder in place of angel wings, it looks as if she is literally picking up the pieces of a broken world.