Rime

Circus and sailing make a fine pairing, with more similarities than it would first seem: similar ropes, poles and rigging, and similar physical demands placed on their workers. So it is fitting that Square Peg has chosen to use circus skills to tell one of literature's best known sea stories, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge's epic poem is the story of a man interrupted en route to a wedding by a strange old sailor with a sorry tale. Stranded in Antarctica, an albatross led the ancient mariner's ship to safety but instead of thanking the bird he shot it, with disastrous consequences for the superstitious crew onboard.

The aesthetic Square Peg has created—an urban Victoriana with pastel corsets and black trainers— is lovely, as are the traditional sea props it uses: crates, poles and sails. But the narrative it draws out is too slight to sustain the show's momentum, with the long passages of dance and circus, graceful and impressive as they are, embellishing the story rather than driving it. Some of the most beautiful moments of aerials and dance come from Hazel Lam, with a slow energy that seems to saturate each of her perfectly controlled limbs. But the connection to the narrative feels vague. There are some exceptions to this, the best of which is when Rosamond Martin's albatross materialises out of nowhere into a wild duet with the mariner that quickly becomes a dance of death. And for sea-faring atmosphere Rime is certainly ship-shape.