Review from: Underbelly Circus Hub, Edinburgh Festival Fringe; 15th August 2025
Six° (read: 6 degrees) by Canadian company FLIP Fabrique is an entertaining and family-friendly circus production set within a theatrical frame. While the performers deliver high-level acts with charm and skill, the storytelling element struggles to hold together, leaving the piece feeling unfocused. At its best, Six° delights with humour, grace, and artistry; at its weakest, it feels like a show at odds with itself.
The premise is simple: a ‘new arrival’ takes shelter in a waiting room on a stormy night, accompanied by the voice of a mysterious narrator reminding us that ‘storms make the flowers fresh‘ (Baudelaire). The central character Robert, a hapless clown (Theodore Leblanc), enters first and immediately wins over the audience with his clumsy charm. A running gag involving a falling circular picture frame provides genuine laughter, and the frame later reappears in an impressive hoop-diving act performed by Ewen Fromager and Shane Minerich.
One by one, the other characters arrive — Mathilde (Lise Kleistendorff), Gloria (Laurence Desgagnés), Arturo (Fromager) and Richard (Minerich) — each carrying a letter, though the audience never learns what these letters contain. Gloria tears hers up in frustration, a moment hinting at deeper emotion that is never developed. Meanwhile, Mathilde and Richard exchange glances, sparking the suggestion of romance. This thread, however, quickly dissolves into missed opportunities and continuity breaks: Richard’s macho antics scare Mathilde off, but when the group reconvenes for ensemble acrobatics, their previous dynamic is abandoned without explanation.
The circus acts are consistently impressive. Desgagnés’ cyr wheel solo is elegantly choreographed, Kleistendorff’s handstands are liquid and mesmerising, and Minerich brings power to his trampwall routine. The partner acrobatics between Fromager and Minerich are seamless, while Leblanc also shines as a reliable base in ensemble acrobatics. Unfortunately, the narrative device that has kept Robert ‘unable to see’ the others until this point evaporates without reason once he joins them physically onstage, disrupting the show’s internal logic.
There are moments of true theatrical beauty: a dance duet between Kleistendorff and Desgagnés, and Fromager’s playful clowning when he discovers he can control the waiting room’s lights, rain and music. Fromager, in particular, establishes a genuine connection with the audience that contrasts with the otherwise distant storytelling. The moving set — rotating walls and platforms that transform from interior to exterior — provides strong visual interest, but the dramaturgy falters in clarifying why our characters shift in and out of the room.
The romantic subplot resurfaces later in a flower-decorated outdoor scene. Again Richard poses, again Mathilde resists. When Richard notices that Mathilde is unimpressed he proceeds to show off his strength in a trampwall act. Arturo (Fromager) joins, and the playful clown he brings to the scene – together with the two men’s dynamic – is a lot more enjoyable than what this romantic line will ever deliver. After a while, Mathilde starts to shows off her own strength, while Richard is watching. Kleistendorff’s handstand act is fluid and skilful, her body moves like liquid, defying gravity. However this romantic thread leads nowhere, at the end of her act the two performers sit next to each other seemingly indifferent, to observe the final scene unfold on stage.
Some acts feel unnecessarily repeated, such as the hoop-diving sequence or a prolonged hula hoop number that continues past its peak. The structure seems to waver between theatre and cabaret, never fully committing to either. As a result, the circus skills shine but the narrative scaffolding drags them down. The central idea of “six degrees of separation” is lightly referenced, but the promised involvement of the audience as the sixth degree is never developed. Instead, the audience remains spectators, not participants.
Despite these flaws, the show is buoyed by its performers. Leblanc is a warm and sympathetic clown, Kleistendorff fluid and precise, Desgagnés both powerful and graceful, Fromager playful and engaging, and Minerich energetic and versatile. Together they present circus at a very high technical level, carefully choreographed and beautifully delivered.
Created in 2020 by Olivier Lépine, Six° has since seen a cast reshuffle, with this ensemble brought together over the past year. Perhaps it is this newness that accounts for some of the show’s unevenness; the performers are outstanding individually, but the direction lacks cohesion. The result is a production that feels like two shows competing for attention: an awkwardly sketched narrative about letters, storms and missed romances, and an exuberant circus cabaret brimming with talent.
The family-friendly humour and dazzling skills make Six° an accessible and enjoyable afternoon for audiences of all ages.
