It has been said that 10,000 hours of practice can make you an expert in anything, or at least so goes the theory popularised by author Malcolm Gladwell. Adelaide’s prestigious contemporary circus company Gravity & Other Myths explore this notion in their latest show which manages to combine otherworldly physical stunts with a philosophical concept that is as self-referential as it is symbolic. 

When audiences enter Assembly Hall, all members of the troupe are already on stage warming up. They nonchalantly wander around the relatively bare set, testing handstands and stretching like dancers in a studio. Watching them apply liquid chalk, drill partner lifts and josh around allows us to see their human form, as opposed to the freakish athletes waiting in the figurative wings. 

Made up of multiple chapters, the show opens with some rhythmic floor work (which makes us aware of a live drummer positioned stage right) and nerve-frying human tower variations. The choreography here, and throughout, plays a lot with repetition and hands-on adjustment, with tension building and diffusing constantly as the bodies on stage attempt increasingly high-stakes moves. These drill-like sequences make the audience feel on edge, as though improvement and mastery is happening in front of our very eyes. This, of course, is all by design, and our gasps and grand applauses slot into the performance like interlocking parts of a collaborative puzzle. 

These mesmerising circus sections are broken up with solo performances, the first of which sees one member perform a dance break in various different styles suggested by his teammates and audience members (a ‘Simone Biles meets salsa’ rendition of his elaborate piece received raucous applause). Returning to this idea of repetition, we see how the artist is able to imbue the same moves with different emotions and flare once the technique is firmly in his body. Clever forms of improvisation, audience participation and prop work, including a water bottle being intermittently flipped (there’s something very satisfying about watching some of the best acrobats in the world fail at this), keep the audience firmly present while continuing to reinforce the show’s raison d’être. 

It’s clear every member of this troupe has put in their 10,000 hours and the result is nothing short of breathtaking. They are living proof practice makes perfect, though something tells me a million hours wouldn’t bring me to their level. 

This review was originally written in 2024 for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival; Ten Thousand Hours will be performed at Gluttony from Thursday 20 February–Sunday 23 March, 8.15pm.