A Soiree Along the South Bank

Recently I was able to stray off the beaten path of a typical night’s out in London by strolling over to the “big top” along the South Bank to see the circus-bar-event hybrid called “La Soiree,” and what I saw was something I was entirely not ready for. Coming into the night, all I knew of what was to come was that it was some type of show (my ignorance was due to the fact that the night was purposely made a secret to me in order to make it more surprising and fun), and so when I arrived at La Soiree I was firstly shocked by the fact that there was any kind of circus in the middle of London in the first place. Seeing a huge big top tent in the midst of prime real estate like the National Theatre was surprising to say the least. At this point I was expecting elephants to be stampeding around and lions to be doing tricks for ringmasters, but instead I walked into a gigantic bar—something I don’t remember seeing as a kid going to the circus, but something that was welcome all the same and something that set the tone for the rest of the night. After getting some drinks and some candy (this was a circus, after all) I sat down and waited for the show to start along with the other soiree-ers, with all of us sitting around a center stage, and with me still not having a clue about what I was actually going to see.

I found my answer—or, rather, my lack thereof—once the first act started and a gigantic puppet diva began to croon music to the audience, as the two-puppeteer act known as “Cabaret Decadanse” started up and only added more mystery to the trajectory of the show.  Next the master of ceremonies (of sorts) came out in the form of “Miss Behave” who, as a small act of the show as well, proceeded to entertain the audience with her brashness and bravado (including taking sips from various cups off of audience member’s tables), before introducing the shows overarching concept, which was having several different acts entertain the night away for us. From then on the show was taken over by small little acts comprised of one or two people that were usually based on some sort of comedy routine or acrobatic display—themes that are not too unfamiliar to a typical circus after all. There was this show’s “clown,” Mooky, who created an entire routine full of improvisation and even had one skit that had her feeding lines to an uncomfortable, but cooperative audience member. Rather than having trapeze artists, this show had gymnast-acrobats, two of which formed the show called the “English Gents,” and another that was comprised of one guy doing acrobatic moves in the air using a tapestry-like rope after getting out of a bathtub (this included him kicking water on people once in the air and flinging water this way and that). Other highlights included a double-jointed contortionist who somehow was able to move a 10-inch diameter tennis racket over his entire body with a little help from a self-dislocated shoulder or two. His was very much a comedy act, but at the same time you couldn’t help but grimace and gawk and some of the squeezing he had to do.

Captain Frodo the Norse contortionist

When La Soiree finished, I still wasn’t really sure what to make of it—the show had no true set identity to it, besides the fact that it was a play off of a circus-type atmosphere. But maybe that was the beauty to it all—because just as a circus is sometimes just a motley crew of acts and shows, La Soiree was also just a combination of acts that was seemingly drawn together at random and brought together solely for their entertainment value. I found out later that this was partially true, as every show the acts change and the other people who put on shows are just as disparate as the acts I saw. Regardless, I left the South Bank thoroughly entertained that night, as the acts were all funny and light-hearted and the atmosphere fantastic.

Will Berman
UCLA Section B