★★★☆☆
It’s rare to see a theatre piece that blurs the line between performance and dream, comedy and melancholy, childhood and adulthood. Slava’s SnowShow — the legendary contemporary circus creation of Russian clown and theatre visionary Slava Polunin — does exactly that. Since its premiere in in October 1993 in Moscow, the show has toured the world and become a phenomenon that defies genre and age. It’s not just theatre; it’s an experience — one that is as unpredictable as snow itself.
Slava Polunin is not only the creator of Snowshow but also its director, scenographer, costume designer, special effects designer, and even sound designer. Every element on stage bears his unmistakable touch. The show is a self-contained universe, built from imagination, nostalgia, and play — a rare example of total theatre where one artist’s vision shapes every layer of the performance.
Polunin himself was described to us as “a grown-up child” by one of the clowns in the BTS pre-show visit. He doesn’t just perform his show — he lives it. For decades, this has been both his art and his lifelong hobby, something he continues to love, enjoy, and reinvent.
His son – Vanya Polunin, one of the clowns on stage, has been part of the show for nearly thirty years — practically since he learned to walk. This consistency is a rare practice among theatre actors, and it only deepens the show’s sense of authenticity and magic.
Each performance of Slava’s SnowShow is unique. The actors never know exactly how the evening will unfold, as much depends on their spontaneous interaction with the audience. The result is a living, breathing piece of art — sincere, chaotic, and unrepeatable. Watching it, one quickly realises that this is not just a children’s show. Some parents in the audience laughed louder than their kids. The trick is to let go — to stop analysing, stop searching for meaning or plot (there is hardly any), and simply surrender to the absurd poetry happening on stage.
During the interval, the adult audience seemed divided: for some, it was “absolutely wonderful,” while others were left genuinely puzzled — “What on earth was that?” The children, of course, were enchanted. As the adults drifted towards the bars, the clowns stepped down into the aisles, playing and interacting with the younger audience, keeping the magic alive even off the stage.
What makes SnowShow so extraordinary is its seamless rhythm. Transitions between scenes feel organic, almost hypnotic, and at times it seems as though time itself slows down.
With minimal stage design, Polunin and his ensemble create a surreal, cinematic world — a collage of emotions, gestures, and dreamlike fragments that blend into something profoundly human. It’s never quite clear whether SnowShow is funny or sad. Beneath the laughter lies a quiet melancholy; beneath the playfulness, a glimpse of solitude. The clowns are not caricatures but fragile souls, seeking warmth and connection in a cold, absurd world.
And then comes the finale — breathtaking, unexpected, and pure joy. As snow fills the theatre, Manchester turns into a winter wonderland. For a few magical minutes, everyone — children, parents, and the clowns themselves — becomes part of Slava’s universe.
Slava’s SnowShow is not something to be understood; it’s something to be felt. It asks its audience to abandon logic, surrender to imagination, and rediscover the child within. Whether you leave the theatre laughing, puzzled, or quietly moved, one thing is certain — you leave changed.
Slava’s SnowShow runs at Opera House Manchester until October 28 and tours the UK until November 30.
Photo: Veronique Vial
JADAR 