A Round of Applause - and a Wink: La Ronde at Sydney's The Grand Electric.

There’s theatre that entertains, and then there’s theatre that flirts, teases, and winks across the room while pouring you another drink. La Ronde, Strut & Fret’s latest immersive circus-cabaret concoction, belongs firmly in the latter camp. It’s the kind of show that doesn’t so much break the fourth wall as pole-dance on it - audacious, unapologetic, and brimming with the sort of talent that makes you wonder if gravity signed a non-compete clause.

Staged in the round at The Grand Electric - that deliciously louche Surry Hills venue that feels like a Parisian after-hours bar met a Fellini dream sequence - La Ronde transforms intimacy into spectacle. Every seat is close enough to see the smirk behind the sequins, and that’s exactly the point. There’s nowhere to hide here, not for the performers and certainly not for the audience.

Some shows break the fourth wall. This one pole-dances on it.

Strut & Fret have long been the elegant misfits of the performance world - too polished for the fringe, too unbuttoned for the opera house. With La Ronde, they’ve refined that tension into a kind of theatrical alchemy. The show borrows its title and loose inspiration from Arthur Schnitzler’s 1897 play - the scandalous daisy-chain of encounters that got the Viennese establishment’s corsets in a twist - but here, “round” means something altogether more physical. The eroticism is playful, not prurient; the narrative circularity is replaced with literal revolutions - of hoops, bodies, and expectations.

The acts unfold like chapters in a fever dream curated by someone with impeccable taste and questionable restraint. One moment, a trapeze artist suspends herself midair by her hair - an image that feels equal parts martyrdom and haute couture. The next, a comic duo dismantle slapstick until it becomes art. It’s circus as confession: dazzlingly rehearsed, yet pulsing with live-wire unpredictability.

And the music - oh, the music. Think Lana Del Rey filtered through Berlin cabaret, with the occasional wink to Bowie’s Pin Ups and a slow-burn remix of INXS that shouldn’t work but absolutely does. It’s the kind of soundtrack that makes you want to spill your martini in slow motion.

What’s refreshing - and frankly thrilling - is how La Ronde refuses to pretend it’s “about” something. In an era when every show feels compelled to justify its existence with a theme, message, or corporate wellness tie-in, this one is content to revel in pure physical mastery. It’s theatre as sensory rebellion - reminding us that awe, laughter, and lust are reasons enough to show up.

That said, there’s subtle craft beneath the sparkle. The pacing is meticulous - the transitions so seamless you don’t notice until the applause starts. The lighting design deserves its own bow: at once cinematic and conspiratorial, like chiaroscuro by way of Studio 54. And the performers - uniformly magnetic - oscillate between tenderness and bravado with an authenticity that keeps the decadence from tipping into parody.

Of course, there’s cheek. La Ronde isn’t afraid of a little flesh, or of reminding you that we’re all just a little too buttoned-up. But it’s never vulgar. It’s sensuality with a wink - the kind that makes you laugh before you blush.

So what’s the verdict? La Ronde isn’t here to deliver a tidy moral, and thank god for that. It’s a reminder that the body - in all its strength, absurdity, and grace - is still the best storyteller we have.

Verdict: A circus for grown-ups with taste and a tolerance for delight. Four martinis and one smudged lipstick out of five.

---

Words by AW.

Photo courtesy of Strut & Fret.