Where Whimsy Takes Flight: Malo at The Cirk
There’s a certain magic in walking into a new theatre space for the first time, especially when that space hums with possibility. That was my experience at The Cirk, a new venue with an old soul, carved from the remains of the Cresta Barnyard. The Cirk is boldly reimagining what circus theatre can be, and Malo - its latest creation - is the kind of show that makes you feel like you’ve stepped into a storybook from far, far beyond our world.
Directed, written, and conceived by the inimitable Janice Honeyman, Malo is a whimsical blend of romance, circus, music, and theatre. It tells the tale of a heart-on-his-sleeve clown who falls in love with the Moon Maiden. The plot is dreamlike and deliberately simple, serving more as a gentle current than a driving force. It allows the audience to float through the evening, absorbing the spectacle at their own pace.
From the first moment Malo stepped onstage - eyes wide, heart open - I knew we were in for something sincere. Daniel Buckland’s performance is full of soul, mischief, and melancholy. He evokes that timeless clown archetype: both jester and philosopher, fool and poet. There’s something disarmingly human about him, especially in the way he reaches - not just for the moon, but for connection, for love, for a moment of transcendence in a chaotic world.
But Malo is far from a one-man show. Claudia Moruzzi dazzles as the Moon Maiden, Yahto Kraft delivers exuberant energy (and a terrifying whip) as Ringmaster Ratchet, and the supporting ensemble of acrobats and aerialists bring the production to life with astonishing physicality. Each movement - whether a gentle bend or a high-flying somersault - is an act of storytelling. These performers aren’t just athletes; they’re dream-weavers. Their strength, grace, and timing draw us into Malo’s world in ways that dialogue never could. The physical feats never feel like tricks for their own sake. Instead, they serve the emotional arc, underscoring moments of yearning, joy, and comic misadventure.
The design elements support the show’s whimsical tone without overpowering it. Costumes are bold, colourful, and delightfully eclectic - somewhere between steampunk carnival and intergalactic fairytale. The lighting is playful but intentional, often casting the performers in otherworldly hues that shift with the mood. The overall aesthetic is one of controlled chaos, a visual feast that keeps the eye wandering and wondering.
Wessel Odendaal’s original score deserves special mention. It’s a seamless fusion of clownish mischief and lyrical tenderness. At times, it skips along like something out of a French street performance; at others, it swells with the melancholy of a distant memory. It’s music that doesn’t just accompany the action - it deepens it.
There are moments where the pace dips, or where the humour leans too heavily into slapstick for my personal taste. But Malo doesn’t pretend to be perfect. It offers its heart, and invites you to do the same. It’s rare to find a show that asks you to suspend not just your disbelief, but your expectations. Malo isn’t about sharp plot turns or polished punchlines. It’s about mood, movement, and magic. It’s about wonder - pure, unapologetic wonder. And if you let it, it might just take you there.
Malo runs on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays until 15 June 2025 at The Cirk. Bring a curious heart, an open mind, and maybe someone you love. The moon is waiting.