When we are little kids, everyone spends some time – even if it’s just one lazy summer afternoon – marvelling at the insect world. You might watch a bunch of ants carrying a leaf, or find a huge stag beetle and bring it home in a jar to show your family. Whatever the story, humans have always found creepy crawlies both repulsive and fascinating. Cirque du Soleil: OVO brings us a stylised, hyper-colourful version of that micro world, but blown up to a very human scale.

OVO (Portuguese for egg) was my second Cirque show, having attended Corteo last year (review here), and given how much I enjoyed that one, I went in with high expectations. As we sat in our seats waiting for the show to begin, the Royal Albert Hall was abuzz with anticipation. And while we were ‘abuzz’, some very cute bees – dancers in fluffy costumes with matching makeup – buzzed out into the audience, weaving between the rows, posing for photos, making people laugh, and generally spreading good vibes.

Then the show started, and the real fun began. There was a red ant troupe of extraordinary foot jugglers, a moth silk performer, butterflies doing jaw-dropping work on straps, and a dizzying parade of other death-defying, breathtaking acts. One of the highlights – although almost identical to an act in last year’s Corteo – was the Russian Cradle, or as I like to call it, the annual tossing of the women. A large troupe dressed as scarab beetles hurl performers through the air in an astonishing display that delivers multiple heart-in-mouth moments, despite the presence of a very sturdy safety net.

I could carry on listing every act, but that would spoil the surprises. Needless to say, they are numerous and consistently impressive. The grand finale is a spectacular assault on the senses, involving a wall, trampolines, and a tumble track, and it absolutely blew our socks off.

However, because this is only the second Cirque show I’ve seen, I couldn’t help but compare it to Corteo. That production had a beautiful through-line, following a man on his deathbed reflecting on his life. It had emotional depth, angels flying on with props, striking imagery, and wonderfully delivered monologues from its central storyteller. This show had… three clowns.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the clowns are a lot of fun. According to the programme, they are the ‘main characters’, and while they attempt to introduce a semblance of narrative, it never quite lands. There’s the short, bossy bug, the blue weirdo bug who, for reasons best described as ‘comedy’, carries a huge egg at the start, and the cute ladybird who acts as a sort of love interest. They speak in a made-up language which thoroughly annoyed one of my friends in the audience, though I personally found it harmless enough. They pop up between the circus acts, offering comic relief and audience engagement, and they do that job well. But after last year’s show, I found myself wishing for something more cohesive. It felt like far less effort had been made to give OVO a real story.

That said, chatting to families after the show, it was clear that children absolutely loved the clowns, which I suppose is the point. Fair enough.

Ultimately, Cirque du Soleil: OVO isn’t trying to be poetic or philosophical in the way Corteo was. It’s a riot of colour, movement, noise, and physical brilliance, a celebration of the natural world filtered through Cirque’s uniquely bonkers imagination. While I missed the emotional through-line and found myself wanting a little more narrative ambition, there’s no denying the sheer skill on display. This is a show designed to thrill, amaze, and delight, and on that front it absolutely succeeds. If you go in expecting wonder rather than depth, you’ll leave buzzing, grinning, and marvelling once again at what the human body can do.

Catch Cirque du Soleil: OVO at The Royal Albert Hall until 1 March 2026

Buy your tickets at cirquedusoleil.com

Words Nick Barr

Photography Marie-Andrée Lemire