The arrival of the Giffords Circus big top brings a unique enchantment—like a dazzling mirage woven from sequins, vintage posters, and nostalgic dreams. This year’s production, Laguna Bay, celebrates a remarkable 25-year journey, whisking audiences away to a sunlit 1950s Californian coastline. Here, quiffed lifeguards soar through flaming hoops, while synchronized seagulls add to the whimsical atmosphere. With a vibrant palette of pastels, the show promises nostalgia, spectacle, and joy.
However, while Laguna Bay sparkles with charm and undeniable talent, it sometimes feels like a lively beach party where the music is fantastic, drinks flow freely, but the connections between moments fall flat. There are many aspects to admire—from brilliant performances to delightful set pieces and, of course, the ever-joyful Tweedy. Yet, as the final curtain falls, one might ponder what the entire experience was truly building towards.
First and foremost, Giffords remains a treasured national institution. The visual elements are meticulously crafted as ever. Designer Takis has created a stunning aesthetic, with costumes in soft pastel hues, USAF uniforms looking fabulous, and a dreamy boardwalk backdrop illuminated in warm sunset colors. It’s a gorgeous blend of Malibu and Minchinhampton.
The live band, led by the energetic Joe Pickering, keeps the momentum going with surf rock, upbeat swing, and even a touch of Latin flair. Although some tunes may feel a bit anachronistic—like the Thunderbirds theme, which debuted in the mid-60s—the music and musicians ground the circus in its retro setting.
Yet, if Laguna Bay is a feast for the senses, its emotional core seems a bit elusive. Directed by Cal McCrystal, the production leans heavily on the beloved Tweedy, the clown who has charmed audiences with his oversized trousers and infinite charm for over two decades. His physical comedy is spot-on, and kids absolutely adore him—adults do too. A scene where he playfully tosses ice cream at fellow clowns Dany and Sito Revelino is a highlight of comedic choreography.
However, as we reach the third extended Tweedy skit, one begins to ask: Are we getting a bit too much of a good thing? His antics, while consistently humorous, start to feel like filler—a means to connect segments that don’t naturally fit together. Instead of weaving his character into the overarching narrative, Laguna Bay seems to rely on him as a charming but ultimately unifying crutch, revealing a structural issue with transitions between acts.
Unlike Giffords’ previous memorable productions (Xanadu, Carpa!, and The Hooley), Laguna Bay struggles to establish a cohesive story. It hints at a narrative set within a retro beach town, showcasing the lives of lifeguards and sunbathers, but that thread is never fully tightened. Acts appear and disappear without clear introductions or goodbyes. Each performance showcases impressive circus skills, from John Pablo and Vickki Garcia hanging from a circling airplane to their sons, Antonio and Connor Garcia, mastering acrobalance. The horses—a Giffords hallmark—grace the ring with their usual elegance, but collectively, the show feels more like a variety hour than a seamless production.
There’s also the issue of risk—or the lack thereof.
Giffords has long balanced tradition with innovation, tending toward intimate, precise performances rather than grand spectacle. This delicate balance is what sets them apart. However, Laguna Bay veers too far into the comfort zone. Aerialists like Randy Forgione Vega (aerial straps) and Daniela Munoz Landestoy and Noemi Novakovics (duo hairhang) hover gracefully above an excited audience but don’t quite soar with daring exhilaration. Even the renowned Ethio-Salem troupe, usually a thrilling crowd favorite, delivers technically sound performances that lack the heart-stopping excitement audiences crave.
This cautious approach isn’t necessarily a downside—particularly for a family-friendly show—but it can create a sense of sameness. With each act polished yet familiar, the performance lacks the thrilling unpredictability that can elevate a circus to legendary heights.
In the end, Laguna Bay is a delightful confection: sweet, bright, and beautifully presented. For newcomers to Giffords, it will undoubtedly captivate. However, for returning fans, it may feel like a production that prefers to tread water rather than dive deep. The potential is palpable: a vibrant setting, an immensely talented cast, and a creative team that knows their craft. Yet, amid the sandcastles and saxophones, Laguna Bay fails to offer the element of surprise we long for.
Nonetheless, even a less-than-stellar Giffords show provides more joy than many of London’s theatres can hope to deliver. It continues to be a wonderland where the extraordinary feels effortless and the mundane sparkles with magic. Here’s hoping that next year brings bolder storytelling, greater risks, and a soaring spirit to this enchanting circus dream.
Giffords Circus is touring until September 28.
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