One paper-thin wall between loneliness and connection. Fish Bowl turns everyday city life into sublime, silent chaos.Rating
Excellent
Set in Paris, though it could just as easily be London, Tokyo or New York, Fish Bowl captures the compressed absurdity of modern city living, where “home” is less a studio and more what a letting agent might optimistically label a “container unit.” In this inventive, silent comedy, three neighbours barely separated by paper-thin walls, inhabit impossibly small spaces, with their lives unfolding simultaneously.
We meet them quickly and clearly. There’s the hyper-organised tech obsessive, living inside a pristine, automated home full of ingenious gadgets, including an automatic helmet and a toilet that delivers one of the show’s standout gags. Next door lives a bohemian hoarder, seemingly stuck in time and unable to fit his life entirely inside his flat, with his possessions spilling into the shared hallway. Then the woman arrives, backpack still on, returning from travels to find her dust-covered home partially blocked by unfamiliar boxes. Her space feels warmer, more spiritual than the others, and quietly resilient.
The characters are nameless, and deliberately so. They represent anyone who has lived small in a big city: irritated by neighbours yet, when things go wrong, reliant on them. Over time, across days, seasons and accumulating disasters, unlikely friendships form. We witness how the mundane becomes extraordinary, how private lives unravel, and how comedy can sit uncomfortably close to pain. The performers who bring these characters to life are nothing short of amazing, with their physical precision, comic timing and emotional depth elevating every moment, making the silent storytelling feel effortlessly eloquent.
There is a joyful lightness running through Fish Bowl, but it also ventures into darker emotional territory. Certain visual gags, particularly those involving the fishbowl and the increasingly endangered fish, feel ripe for greater escalation. One occasionally senses that the production could have gone just a step further into chaos.
Where the show truly shines is in its extended sequences. The “night of the mosquito,” in which the insect travels relentlessly from flat to flat, is a masterclass in variation and physical invention, with each character deploying wildly different techniques to rid themselves of the tiny invader. Similarly, the party scene is beautifully choreographed, deeply ridiculous and bursting with joy.
Laura Léonard’s set design is a triumph of precision and imagination. Every hidden compartment and flying object is meticulously controlled, transforming the set into a living, breathing organism.
Written and directed by Pierre Guillois, co-written by Agathe L’Huillier and Olivier Martin-Salvan, the show honours the long tradition of French mime and clowning, while feeling inventive and modern. As a mime teacher once told me, “silly can still shoot an arrow straight into the chest.” Fish Bowl does exactly that, being hilarious, tender and quietly devastating.
Written and directed by Pierre Guillois
Co-written by Agathe L’Huillier and Olivier Martin-Salvan
Assistant Director: Robin Causse
Costume Design by Axel Aust
Set Design by Laura Léonard
Lighting Design by Marie-Hélène Pinon and David Carreira
Hair/Wigs/Make-Up by Catherine Saint-Sever
Sound Design by Roland Auffret and Loïc Le Cadre
Special Effects by Abdul Alafrez, Ludovic Perché, Judith Dubois, Guillaume Junot
Set by Atiler JIPANCO and the technical team of Le Quartz, Scène nationale de Brest
Fish Bowl plays at Peacock Theatre until Saturday 31 January.





