Duck Pond isn’t perfect. It’s daring, ambitious, and occasionally chaotic, but that’s also its charm.
Circa’s Duck Pond at the Southbank Centre is one of those shows that sounds like it could be pure genius: a mash-up of Swan Lake and The Ugly Duckling, performed by an acrobatic troupe known for their daring physicality. The narrative promises intrigue—a prince caught in a love triangle between a stunning black swan and an ‘ugly’ duckling who eventually reveals her true swan self. It’s a compelling premise about identity, transformation, and beauty, but I found myself wondering if such a rich narrative could truly hold up on stage amidst all the high-flying action.
The company attempts to blend the elegance of ballet, the storytelling of modern dance, and the raw athleticism of circus arts, and when it works, it’s breathtaking. The performers quite literally soar, forming human towers that defy gravity before crashing back down with exhilarating precision. There’s trust and chemistry between them that feels palpable—they float and fly with a grace that’s mesmerising to watch. But there were moments when the narrative got lost in the mix, overshadowed by the sheer spectacle.
Some choices felt downright odd. At one point, the black swan struts onto the stage in red stilettos and walks all over another nearly naked performer, in what can only be described as a dominatrix-inspired moment. It felt like a completely different show had walked in, at odds with the established themes of athleticism and elegance. Then, there’s Act Three, where half-dressed performers are posed provocatively in moving boxes as the stage gets packed up around them. It wasn’t entirely cringe, nor fully 18+, and even had flashes of humour, but I couldn’t quite figure out how it fit into the overall vision.
That said, Circa’s skill and creativity can’t be denied. The minimalist set, with its clean black-and-white aesthetic, contrasted beautifully with the bright yellow and orange of the goofy ducks cleaning the stage with mops (and then using those same mops as props for acrobatics). It was moments like this—clever, funny, and visually striking—that reminded me why Circa is so renowned. The music, laced with hints of Tchaikovsky, added a sense of whimsy and drama without overshadowing the performers.
What stuck with me most was the “meeting” between the black swan and the duckling-turned-swan—a delicate and beautifully choreographed sequence that captured the idea of transformation and acceptance. It was one of those rare moments where narrative and artistry met perfectly, and you could feel the themes of Swan Lake and The Ugly Duckling coming together: the longing to be seen for who you truly are, and the realisation that beauty can emerge from even the most unlikely places.
Duck Pond isn’t perfect. It’s daring, ambitious, and occasionally chaotic, but that’s also its charm. While some choices felt out of place, and the story didn’t always land, there’s no denying the sheer artistry and audacity of what Circa is trying to do. It’s a show that makes you think, laugh, and occasionally scratch your head—and maybe that’s exactly what they intended.