A plane crashes. The pilot and co-pilot are left to fend for themselves. They’re amusingly underprepared, with just a few crackers in their ration box, but there’s no better sustenance than their irrepressibly whimsical zest for life.
It’s reasonable to expect a show that starts with a tragedy to be heavy with pathos, but this isn’t the case in Beau & Aero. Instead, we are treated to a mashup of slapstick comedy, acrobatics, mime, and puppetry.
Reminiscent of the traditions of vaudeville and silent film, this show is packed to the brim with heart-warming foolery and awe-inspiring physical feats.
The titular acrobatic aeronauts clown their way through innumerable hilarious scenarios and create some spectacular moments with the use of balloons alone. This is a fantastic show, filled with masterful physical comedy, and is genuinely delightful to watch.
Almost bereft of dialogue, for much of the show all we hear from Beau is Aero’s name. His wonderfully gruff voice serves as a perfect counterpoint to Aero’s diminutive and whispered expressions.
As the two performers interact with the audience the hall fills with childlike joy; in a room full of adults, this is no small achievement. With Aero often leaving the stage to move amongst the crowd and Beau making some intense eye contact while suggestively stretching a balloon - thankfully from a very safe distance - adults and youngsters alike are left chuckling, guffawing, and generally dissolving into laughter.
David Cantor and Amica Hunter have a chemistry on stage that brings vigour to the interaction between Beau’s straight man and Aero’s frivolous fool. The two performers soar before the audience, both figuratively and literally, and make even grotesquery feel lighthearted.
Beau & Aero is a gloriously accessible show that’s bound to bring a pure sense of amusement to anyone who sees it.
Watch Beau guiding Aero like a plane, see Aero climbing Beau like a tree, and experience both thrilling the audience like the superlative entertainers that they are.