Triptyque (Les 7 Doigts De La Main)

When circus wants to get serious it has often turned to dance theatre. Channelling acrobatic physicality through a lexicon of choreographed movement can yield astonishing results — Circa's devastatingly powerful Il Ritorno being an excellent case in point — but that's not to say this creative hybrid is foolproof. Canadian circus troupe Les 7 Doigts De La Main recruited three choreographers to mount Triptyque, and the results highlight both the perks and pitfalls of danced circus.

Marie Chouinard's Anne And Samuel is a sexually provocative duet and the most conspicuous departure from the expected circus norms. Using crutches as extensions of their limbs, the two bodies on stage (Samuel Tetreault and Sara Harton) move with a mixture of animalistic muscularity and impaired frailty. With the dexterity of their hands removed from the equation, their interactions become led from the torso or the pelvis via gyrating thrusts or tender nuzzles. There's a current of erotic danger coursing through this movement, as a somewhat kinky submissive-dominant dynamic unfolds from knotting and unlacing limbs. At times, however, the intimacy of this pas de deux becomes almost wincingly explicit, as if the movement were aping the tantric positions of the Karma Sutra. It's not that sexuality onstage is unwelcome, indeed the use of the sensual can be a powerful dramatic tool. However, here it becomes overly gratuitous to the point that the not-so-subtle inferences of sex obscure any more nuanced reading of this piece.

Victor Quijada's Variations 9.81 is a pendulum swing to the other extreme with barely any tangible aspects of dance or theatre at all. Feats of strength and balance, a staple tool in the spectacle of the circus, make for some genuinely gasp-worthy moments as the six performs pivot and sway at gravity-defying angles from an array of raised plinths. Unfortunately, from a theatrical perspective, this work is disappointingly inert as the performers move through the space with the cliched, arbitrary intensity of a magician's assistant, spurred on by a cheesy muzak soundtrack.

The final piece is a far more successful synergy of disciplines. Marcos Morau's Nocturnes conjures a fantastical dreamscape of levitating beds, fish-headed minions and mesmeric movement. Here, the jaw dropping and the narrative are expertly in sync; displays of physical virtuosity serve the storytelling without stealing focus. In fact, these extraordinary displays feel strangely familiar in this somnambulant hallucination — in our dreams we can all be acrobats, effortlessly flying through the air, giddy with the sensation of soaring or falling. In this way, Nocturnes strikes the best balance between storytelling and spectacle, offering something unashamedly fun yet also touching.

Les Doigts De La Main presents Triptyque at Arts Centre Melbourne Playhouse until 9 Oct, part of the Melbourne Festival