Review of Cirque du Soleil’s ‘OVO’ (2026, Royal Albert Hall): “All-mitey spectacle needs little debugging”

The Royal Albert Hall welcomes the company’s latest addition to their London season, this year themed after the smallest wildlife. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show to let us know whether it’s an insect-ivizing experience or theatrical vermin.

I never thought I said this, but I’ve actually liked the sight of multi-legged critters parading in front of me. Perhaps I’m in the midst of personal growth. Anyone who know me well is aware of how I would have reacted in a normal situation. Sissy scream, definitely uttered by the person next to me, and an impulsive stomp to end the life of those unwelcome visitors. Go ahead, call PETA. I dare you — you have been dared.

It’s a bug’s life at the Royal Albert Hall this season. After last year’s dead disappointing Corteo (what else would you call a lackluster array of simplistic acrobatics themed after a clown’s funeral?), 2026 seems to have taken a step up the quality ladder — as usual, twisting every possible joint in their bodies.

OVO is the name. It may not have the best ring to it, nor does it accurately reflect what’s to come. There is, in fact, an ovo, which stands for “egg” in Portuguese. A massive inflatable prop awaits patiently onstage as a pair of honeybees crawl up two gigantic flowers to open the show. Lights flicker thunderously as the inert protagonist collapses, now turned into a piece of fabric that swiftly flies out. Darkness falls, and the magic begins.

We don’t expect a strong narrative thread when attending a Cirque du Soleil show. It’s not missed deeply either, but its influence would have helped tighten the product. A few recounts unfold between numbers. There is the clumsy romance between the Ladybug and the Dragonfly, not exempt from confrontation with a randomly selected mistress from the audience. And of course, the arrival and adoration of the ovo, elevated to the quasi-mythical status of 2001‘s monolith.

It’s all in good fun. And for the most part, it’s all good fun, too — provided that we cut a minute or two from the clown’s act, which inevitably leads to the impression of a filler. Yet, anyone with a storyteller’s heart can envision how even more wonderful it would be if each of them served a narrative purpose, creating something more cohesive that takes us on a journey beyond spectacle — the kind that speaks perhaps not deeper but surely more memorably.

Besides that, the company still flaunts the wow factor and pristine quality that define their brand. And they do ever so beautifully. There is a slight lack of identity during Act One. Every part of it is smoothly executed, and it even adds new layers of individuality to recurring elements — the air dance section, conceived as the evolution of a butterfly from the break of the cocoon to the spread of its wings, teems with visual poetry. However, the similarities with Alegria in terms of content are noticeable, and the comparisons are unavoidable.

An arresting (and almost impeccably delivered) acrobatic showstopper closes this grass-coated reboot of the troupe’s previous efforts — overall enjoyable and stirring, nonetheless. Some critics are infamously known for their tradition of leaving during the interval. With this one, that would have meant signing their resignation letter — it is in Act Two that the piece’s true personality flourishes and its endurance permeates.

There’s a sense of seamlessness that the first segment couldn’t convey but that its successor captures with ample dexterity. Everything flows at a steady and unified cadence. Delicate fragments coexist with moments of electrifying vitality. And creative boundaries are pushed by reinterpreting common acts with new degrees of complexity and impressiveness, to an extent that its predecessor could only dream of.

The epilogue feels weak, but neither that nor the minor rehashing vibes from some excerpts should cloud the production’s technical brilliance. No matter how many encounters with Cirque du Soleil one has had in the past, the astonishment continues. The blend of high-end acrobatics with intricate costumes, eye-catching staging, and a galvanizing score performed by a live band and singers is nothing short of otherworldly — and it often comes across as such.

The start of January is always accompanied by a twinge of anticipation. For many, it’s about what the New Year will bring. For theatregoers, it’s the beginning of a new chapter in their, hopefully, busy diaries. For Londoners, wondering what Cirque du Soleil will be offering this time is responsible for at least part of that excitement. There are still so many shows to review. And I can’t predict if they will be overthrown. As of now, however, they stand as a strong candidate to own the month. Infested with talent, there are just a few small flaws to pesticide. And to be fair, none of them really bugged me.

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OVO plays at London’s Royal Albert Hall until 1 March. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara