‘Enfants terribles’ is a swinging new show, not any the less inspired than previous Ashton-shows : dazzling, miscellaneous, creating new possibilities. The solos are still there, but then also three or even five Ashtons act simultaneously. Characteristics from the past – rollneck pullover, black tape moustache – ‘peep around the corner’ at times, but the lions’s share is entirely new material.
Their unique trademark for seventeen years on end : the complete artistic range of slapstick, acrobatics, musicality and non-verbal absurdity is shown to full advantage.
‘My Funny Valentine’ will never be solely Chet Baker any more, after you’ve seen and heard the blind pianist Charles Wonder and Pierrot, leashed in a preposterous way. A man-in-tutu, after two weeks’ training, dancing so enchantingly on point shoes and gliding in a hoop, hanging on a high bar in a wheelchair just like that – the Dutch gymnast selection for Rio as a comic act. The angry old men on scootmobiles are hilarious. And the hands-and-feet play in the bright spotlight surpasses Mindf*ck, the fully feathered griffon vulture, hopping in a terrifying, realistic manner, a blacklight choreography hardly ever presented in such nicety.

And each time the ‘little rascals’ show a life which is not only sweet and ‘fun and laughter’ but which can also be grim and sad, like clowns in a real circus. It always turns out surprisingly different from what you expect.
The Ashtons create illusions ánd disillusions, excite astonishment and fright. And the theatre is ‘filled to the brim’ : over 1000 cubic metres ; not only within ‘the frame’, also in the first rows the thermal is felt over the heads.

When in London, on a week-night, you happen to come across a performance like this, you would immediately qualify it as a topshow – for the whole universe. Theatre is projecting vibrations. At its best until both boards and house are exhausted after the finale.
Uno, dos, tres, olé !