Hot, hot, hot
Rebekah BurgessFORTY Africans bouncing around on stage, twisting and turning and gyrating to the music of their continent is the thing to see on a Friday night. One word – hot. Cirque Mother Africa was the mother of all shows. But it could have been made better by being incorporated into, say, a Womad Festival, instead of heating up the inside of a regal St James Theatre. Given that the audience was all seated, the only connection we could really feel with the gyrators was a visual one. I would have loved to have jumped out of my seat and danced. The cast all did a marvellous job. The highlight was the kid being juggled on the circus man’s feet (if it sounds weird, it was, but so very graceful). He did so well. And must have been all of about 10 years old, at the most. The lowlight was the furry man who contorted himself so strangely. Watching him made me feel physically sick. It’s almost as if these Africans decide to forget that they were human (with physical limitations) and do it anyway.








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