The impressively nimble Captain Frodo

London’s winter cold snap seems to have arrived but despite that there’s good reason to brave the elements and roll up (roll up!) to the South Bank over the coming weeks. In a rather innocuous Medium-sized Top – as opposed to Big Top – behind the National Theatre a rather remarkable troupe of contortionist comedians and reckless raconteurs have assembled to perform in what is likely the most mesmerizingly charming and fundamentally courageous production to hit the capital this year: La Soirée. If you were enthralled by La Clique last year – as I was – then you’ll be familiar with the concept and, indeed, many of the acts who perform, yet this is a show I feel I could watch again and again.

But let’s go back to basics. Like its predecessor, La Soirée is essentially a celebration of those who push the limitations of physical endurance and have deftly created a career of the previously unimaginable. Just as strongmen and strange men were ogled and observed in circuses and travelling shows of times gone by, La Soirée sees a bustle of the oddly gifted burst into the centre of a ring where they perform feats brilliant, bizarre and beautiful over two hours.

Acts change from night to night but we were catapulted directly into the depths of La Soirée’s unconventional yet strangely cosy bosom through our introduction to Captain Frodo. The son of a famous Norse magician (so we were told), he appeared on stage amidst a flutter of glitter and clad only in tighty-whitey shorts. His rejection of bulky clothing wasn’t merely a sartorial choice but helped to facilitate him in sweatily slinking his way through a series of increasingly miniature tennis rackets. There was a prickle of pained groans as the hard, cold metal pinched and dragged his nipple rings downwards but it was when he purposefully dislocated his shoulder and swung the limp, lifeless limb over his head that the audience shuddered and squirmed most forcefully. A quick turn and twist of his dead arm and he was back to his able-bodied best and he left the stage with a message that echoed a more profound resonance than we’d perhaps expected: he’d forged an admittedly alternative but undoubtedly successful career from his unusual ability so what was to stop any of us from pursuing our own hopes and dreams, irrespective of how unachievable or outlandish they might appear to others?

Elated and energised, it was easy from thereon in for the audience to welcome the motley crew who followed. The English Gents emerged looking like archetypical City gentlemen in their pinstripes and bowler hats and proceeded to perform the most incredible feats of physical prowess and agility – think one balancing delicately on the other’s head or supporting his full body weight on just one hand – before stripping off with a patriotic flourish to reveal Union Jack boxers (although apparently the duo are in fact Australian so perhaps it was a show of treasonous disrespect). Sensual cabaret artist Marawa roller skated onto the stage thereafter and dazzled in a camp display of dexterity that saw her twist and turn to a disco soundtrack as seemingly dozens of hula hoops swivelled this way and that from every extended limb.

Outlandish routines and outrageous acts followed but two particular highlights were Berliner David O’Mer who was introduced in particularly lascivious terms by our latex-clad, scissor-swallowing, beer-swilling, wine-spitting hostess Miss Behave. He emerged from a bathtub merman-like in just a pair of soaked jeans before hoisting himself to the rooftop and spinning at speed from the rafters, leaving several women beneath him dripping wet and strangely animated. My favourite performer, however, was the Canadian comedian Mooky. Her routine relied heavily on spectator participation and saw the entire audience unit to support the hapless bystander who was plucked from the crowd to act beside her in a pleasingly pained love scene. She had introduced herself moments before by saying she’d made her way from the wilds of rural Canada to bring some culture to London’s South Bank. Surrounded as we were by the National Theatre, the Royal Festival Hall, Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre and the Tate Modern the claim may have been made in jest, but after our evening’s exposure to some of the most uniquely talented and unexpectedly inspiring individuals currently performing in London I really don’t think she was far wrong.

We give the show a fabulous five-star rating!

La Soirée runs until 31 January 2011, with tickets costing from £15-£65.

To book telephone +44  207 907 7080, or see the La Soirée website.

All the fun of the (very funny) fair at La Soirée