I went to see Slava’s Snow Show at the Royal Concert Hall in Nottingham last night. It is a production that has toured the world since 1993, and I am surprised I had not seen it before. Then I remembered my irrational fear of clowns and balloons. One glance at the publicity photos was enough to make me hesitate — but I decided to take the risk, and I am glad I did.

On paper, this show ticks all my boxes: magical, whimsical, international. Yet I am still trying to make sense of the strange mix of delight and confusion it left me with. From the moment I entered the auditorium, the loud, atmospheric soundscape began, and as the lights dimmed, I realised this was not going to be an ordinary night at the theatre.

The show opened in hushed, dreamlike tones — a solitary yellow clown drifting across the stage with slow, exaggerated gestures, as if they had wandered out of someone’s subconscious. At first, I was not sure what to make of it. There is no clear narrative, no dialogue, no easy way to follow along. Instead, I was swept through a series of beautifully orchestrated scenes: physical comedy, surreal imagery, and bursts of audience interaction. Some moments made me laugh; others caught me off guard.

The show works best from the front rows of the stalls, where you can really feel the atmosphere up close — clowns climbing over seats, clever use of water and umbrellas (no spoilers!), and audience participation reminiscent of pantomime traditions.

Still, there were moments when I found myself drifting. The pacing lagged at times, and some of the solo clowning in the second act felt indulgent — long pratfalls and exaggerated gestures that lost their charm the longer they went on. I can appreciate the masterclass in clowning and physical theatre, but I was frustrated that I could not fully connect with the show in places. In hindsight, something called The Snow Show could have lent more consistently into its warped winter wonderland theme. That said, the huge white sheets, gusts of wind, and final blizzard of paper snow were genuinely magical. Even though I knew it was coming, the snowstorm still hit me with a wave of childlike awe.

I quickly realised the trick was to stop asking, “What does this mean?” and just let go. That is something I struggled with — maybe my inner child is still petrified of clowns. 

Do I recommend this show? Absolutely. There are moments of pure wonder, and the staging, lighting, and imagery it paints in your mind will stay with you.

The finale, though, won me back completely. When the giant-coloured balls bounced through the crowd and snow filled the air, the theatre transformed into pure chaos and joy. I left smiling, covered in confetti, feeling both bewildered and uplifted. It is not a show that explains itself — but if you go with an open heart, it is quite an experience.

The whole production is seamless from cast to technicians,special mentions to:

Created and Staged by Slava Polunin

Performers

Arten Zhimo

Vanya Polunin

Francesco Bifano

Chris Lynam

Yuri Musatov

Aelita West

Bradford West

Director Victor Kramer & Slava Polunin

Scenography Victor Kramer & Slava Polunin

Costume Design and Special Effects Slava Polunin

Sound Roman Dubinnikov, Slave Polunin