Bestiaires (Phil Wilson)

It turns out Cupid is a comically jaded, peroxide blond. Contrary to many a sickly sweet painting, the god of desire comes swaddled in a dishevelled suit, a vibrant thatch of facial hair and punctuates his colloquy with animated nips from a poorly concealed half bottle.

But more importantly: his feet remain firmly on the ground, often in a bid to adroitly manipulate a slew of unnerving, inanimate foam deities.

If this is sounding anything akin to poorly formed negative criticism, then I apologise; it’s actually poorly formed positive criticism. Duda Paiva Company’s contemporary twist on Greek mythology (financial crises, throbbing underworld electro music and loaded six-shooters present and accounted for) is an enlivening feat of dedication, precision and intricate puppetry.

Amid farcical infatuations, flamboyant dialogue and enthralling dance, is a towering taste of the sinister: a complex sequence of physical surefootedness depicting, in her full serpentine splendour, Medusa (puppet) throttling the flailing Athena (living, breathing human) is a difficult image to brush aside.

This could be a result of the show’s mechanics appearing in such a transparent manner. Cupid spends a large portion of his performance elbow deep between Persephone’s breasts in order to contort her torso in such a way as to reject his advances. It’s quite a sight.

Such a sight, in fact, that the audience is invited on stage, post-performance, to inspect and claw at the prone puppets themselves. As such, I can now proudly state that I’ve playfully tickled the distended belly of Hades.

By its very nature, Bestiaires is a lesson in excited disarray – although masterful in its physicality, its facetious tone threatens to unravel some of the tightly choreographed atmosphere. A lengthy, blunt monologue on the versatility of the word ‘fuck’ (pondered by the jiggling head of Zeus) feels abjectly misplaced.

However, even this one, tepid, criticism becomes somewhat moot when the same musing cranium later regurgitates Athena moments before she flourishes into celestial dance.

Bestiaires is an indefatigable, cracked examination; not only of Greek mythology, but also of the intricacies of humanity through its fascination with lust, desire, power and brutality – albeit, by way of divine beings.

Technically mesmerising and relentlessly enjoyable, it’s a performance that’s difficult to forget, and all too easy to admire; if only for Cupid’s fully loaded Eastwood moment with his shooter..