Dance / Duckpond, Circa. At The Playhouse. Until September 20. Reviewed by SAMARA PURNELL.

Duckpond, created by Yaron Lifschitz and the cast of Circa, is an aptly-named parody of Swan Lake, with a healthy dose of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Ugly Duckling thrown in.

Reviewers were provided with a cast list of 12, but not specifically who plays which character, so a deep-dive ensued to figure it out.

Cupid (Asha Colless) oversees the meeting between Sophie Seccombe’s Ugly Duckling and Adam Strom’s Prince at a celebration, before Maya Davies, as the Black Swan, appears to ruffle some duck feathers…

There is no set and the ceiling is exposed (to allow for human towers three people high!) It’s an interesting perspective to see the stage like this as it’s not the usual presentation. Strips of vertical curtains hang over the wings and rear of the stage, allowing entry and exit points around all three sides.

A clever and humorous soundtrack accompanies the production, with Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake score referenced throughout, but with fade-ins, a thumping beat, drums and quackery.

The troupe of black, sparkly-velvet clad acrobats take to the stage creating human towers three-people high, briskly forming clever V-shaped poses, suitably symbolic of the flying pattern of birds.

A flurry of dive rolls, backflips and somersaults filled the stage as the scene was established. And our ugly duckling appears. The party scene where Romeo and Juliet meet comes to mind… until a humorous pillow-fight causes a flurry of feathers and the ugly duckling waddles off.

The purple lighting (design by Alexander Berlage) and bright orange silks were particularly pretty, for a routine by Colless, which she executed cleanly, with finesse and precision, striking a perfect split pose without hands.

The ensemble scenes and “shadow work” as the cast attempts to orchestrate the union of the Prince and Duckling involved pairs of performers in all sorts of lifts, towers and poses. A leap directly on to the head of one of them, bypassing the shoulders altogether, was particularly spectacular.

A procession of dungareed ducks, wielding mops, replaced the traditionally graceful bevy of swans, with an oversized mop providing the prop for lifts and balanced poses and the discovery of feet under flippers providing humour for the audience and horror for the ducks.

Swan Lake’s Dance of the Cygnets was referenced and the familiar strains of the music teased, but no direct take-off of this particular iconic dance was granted.

The first appearance of The Black Swan (Maya Davies) as a vamp in red heels had a routine that appeared more awkward than sexy. Walking all over a man while wearing heels looked more trouble than teasing. But a pas de deux between The Black Swan and the Prince was excitingly choreographed, using turns and spins around and across each other’s bodies. The Prince’s silks routine showcased one of his strengths.

Dejected, the Ugly Duckling attempts, unsuccessfully, to hurl herself into the pond of swans, before the revelation that she is, in fact, a flying swan. The trajectory of leaps, throws and falls, made to look like an absolute breeze is spellbinding.

But the Black Swan isn’t quite finished. In a show-stopping highlight, a completely captivating and beguiling routine on the flying pole by Davies has not only the audience riveted, but sees our newly minted White Swan besotted with her as well, in a gay-swan plot-twist (not a surprise for those who read the synopsis prior to the show).

A sweet dance between the Black and White swans consisting of backbends and counter-balanced poses allowed the expressive personas of Davies and Seccombe to shine. And a dejected Prince throws himself repeatedly to the ground in a funny, UFC-style self-defeat.

An extended epilogue, from memory, in a similar ending to their previous production, gave scope for further routines on cyr hoop, and a flawless hoops routine by Colless. The hoops being flung at speed towards cast members likely had audience members in the front row mildly terrified of a missed catch. A screen depicting swans fighting was wheeled on and off stage in a strange addition to the finale, before a cabaret-style sequence of the performers posing in boxes – the males delighting in the silliness of it – closed the show. These endings don’t fit the shows, but allow a behind-the-scenes, casual ending and some interaction with the audience. And an excuse to strip down to the bare minimum, given this production has the performers slightly more covered than many similar, contemporary circus-style shows.

The appreciative opening night audience rode every throw, hold, balance and dismount, with the performers quickly moving on from a couple of minor mistakes. The gasps and claps from the adults and laughter from the scattering of kids punctuated the performance.

The stamina, skill and focus of the performers is never in doubt. As the last swan is flung through the air at terrifying velocity, and the final pose has been struck, the curtain closes on this entertaining, quirky, quacky production of Duckpond.