Circus of Horrors

It is difficult for an act to be physically shocking these days. At a press of the remote we can tune into Jackass or Dirty Sanchez and satisfy our sordid sadism as a bunch of idiots get rabies-infected goats to suck on their nipples or shoot fireworks out of their arse. As I walk into Circus of Horrors, my expectations are high. I want to be sickened by what is on display; instead it all seems rather tame.

In a week which has seen one of the Circus’s own pull a truck along Princes Street with the hooks stuck in his back, and another glue a vacuum cleaner to his cock, what is on display tonight leaves me underwhelmed to say the least.

Sure, Circus of Horrors has some ‘freaks’ with weird abilities, such as stretchy skin man who can cover his mouth with his throat, but after a while I'm itching to see some genuine talent. After the freaks do their bit, there is almost no substance to the show.

Moments when a dwarf sticks his cock in a vacuum and later takes an (obviously fake) shit in a potty and eats it are just puerile and pointless. Equally irritating is the ringmaster who constantly enters into cringe-worthy rock songs that might convey the rather feeble story if only you could hear the words.

There are, however, some rare moments when the Circus treats the audience to an act involving real talent. The highlight of these is undoubtedly the scaling of a piece of fabric hung from the tent roof by a girl who has just had her throat ‘slit’ by the ringmaster.

But these moments can not save Circus of Horrors from mediocrity, but do elevate it out of one-star territory. This is only something you should go and see if you haven’t got a television or have somehow managed to miss the whole Jackass phenomenon. Otherwise, spend your money seeing a proper circus that possesses real talent and skill, and satisfy your sadistic side by watching MTV afterwards.