PIFA 2018: Plastic Boom's 'Water on Mars' (second review)

Swedish juggling trio Plastic Boom made their U.S. debut last week at the Kimmel, presenting Water on Mars for PIFA. But especially after seeing Philly’s own “Innovative Juggler,” Cirque du Soleil veteran and engineer Greg Kennedy (whom I’ve interviewed over the years about his act), I can’t figure out why anyone is dazzled by Water on Mars.

Unforgettable?

Of course, jugglers Wes Peden (who also choreographed the show), Tony Pezzo, and Patrik Elmnert have prodigious talent. And for the record, I was forced to try juggling in an elementary-school gym class, and I don’t think I got beyond three small silk scarves that were extremely forgiving to catch.

The performers of Plastic Boom can juggle balls, rings, and pins in dizzying color-coded collaborations. But Water on Mars has an oddly limp and messy aesthetic, perhaps true to the repetitive, lackadaisical wording of its English tagline: “This show delivers an unforgettable multi-sensory experience that will not be forgotten.”

According to its program bios, Peden has performed in 18 countries, as well as appearing for the King and Queen of Sweden “on three separate occasions.” Pezzo “has broken over seven juggling world records for ring passing,” which makes me wonder why this is a number that can’t be exactly specified. Elmnert began performing at age 10, attended circus high school, got his bachelor’s degree in juggling, and boasts “a post-graduate course on the relation between juggling and music.”

The great Mars plastic patch

A pounding techno-pop soundtrack powers each segment of the show with relentless noise. One song’s lyrics proclaim “I don’t give a shit” roughly 1,000 times — an interesting choice for a show the Kimmel bills under its “family” category.

The show credits Jay Gilligan as director, Ivar Heckscher for dramaturgy, and Emil Dahl as an “outside eye.” But Water on Mars unfolds like a juggling jam session in a studio that no one has ever cleaned up. All the objects the cast juggles lie around them in a giant, untidy ring of colorful debris that, however carefully chosen, looks as if it was simply dumped onstage.

A 2016 rave review for Water on Mars, with perhaps unwitting aptitude, notes that the show is “like attending a kid’s birthday party, but where you’re not allowed to join in the games.”

Has any reasonable adult ever seen a children’s birthday party and thought, “Man, I wish I could get in on that”?

Tape, toilet paper, candy

The show has its highlights, including an engaging segment where the cast takes turns whacking at a piñata with the pins they’re juggling (okay, maybe that’s the game we’d play). But other routines are oddly mundane for a show billed as “jaw-dropping.”

What happens when you tape a couple plastic pins together and then juggle them that way? How about if you wrap tape around a dude while he’s juggling? What’s it like if you juggle full rolls of toilet paper and then throw them at the audience, followed by packs of candy? Watch Water on Mars and you’ll find out.

Juggling(?) and jumping jacks

Perhaps it’s an edgy subversion of our expectations to repeatedly throw a whole bunch of rings or balls in the air and let them crash-land on the stage — but mostly it just seems like the antithesis of juggling. And I can’t figure out why, when two jugglers engage in a temporary duo act, the third remains onstage doing jumping jacks.

The overall effect is technical skill without theatrical cohesion and talent without choreographic flair, in a show that has evidently been on the road for a few years. (Perhaps this explains the seemingly haphazard setup: it must be easier to just spread your props all over the floor than devise ways to enter and exit them.)

As Mark Cofta notes, the gravity on Mars is different than here on Earth, but despite PIFA’s hyperbolic billing, Water on Mars proves you don’t need to look beyond Philadelphia for the world’s top juggling talent.

To read Mark Cofta's review, click here.