There’s a moment early on in Diavolo’s “Escape” where you’re not quite sure what you’re watching. There’s almost too much going on to see it all, but after a few minutes where your mind and emotions settle in, suddenly, you can’t look away.
First coming to national attention on America’s Got Talent, Diavolo has always thrived on spectacle. But in this new, more intimate downtown Los Angeles production, spectacle gives way to something far more powerful: immersion.
See Also: Theater Review: A Timely “Master Harold… and the Boys” Led by a Commanding John Kani
Founded by Jacques Heim in 1992, the company has built its reputation on large-scale architectural set pieces that performers don’t just dance around; they conquer them. Heim, whose creative DNA traces back to his grandfather (the inventor of the bikini and pioneer of ready-to-wear fashion), brings that same sense of invention to movement. His résumé includes work on KA by Cirque du Soleil, and you can feel that DNA here, but this show strips away the distance and drops you right into the middle of it.
And that’s the key difference. This isn’t Diavolo at a distance. This is Diavolo in your space.
Using massive, sculptural set pieces – a curved metal slide, a rocking ship, fragmented train cars, and that now-iconic square cage (yes, the one from the 2024 Grammy Awards during Dua Lipa’s opening) – the performers create living, breathing environments. They climb them. Collapse on them. Launch off them. Fight them. Trust them. And somehow, through all of that physicality, they tell stories of exclusion, connection, fear, and ultimately, freedom.
At first, the sheer number of performers (over 20) feels overwhelming. There’s a chaotic energy that borders on sensory overload. You’re scanning the stage, trying to take it all in, not quite sure where to land. But then something shifts. The chaos finds rhythm. The rhythm finds intention. One performer catches your eye. Then another. Suddenly, you’re not watching a group, you’re watching people—distinct, expressive, wildly skilled individuals who move with both precision and abandon. Every leap is exact. Every tumble lands with purpose. Every arm movement, every shift in weight feels calculated yet instinctive. It’s athletic. It’s emotional. Which is when you realize, they’re not just moving together, they’re breathing together.
The moody lighting, the industrial setting in the Brewery Arts District, and the proximity to the performers all add up to something that doesn’t feel like a typical night at the theater. It feels like you’ve stepped into something else. Another city. Another country. Another state of mind.
If you’re looking for a traditional narrative, this isn’t that. If you’re looking to be impressed, moved, maybe even thrown out of your comfort zone? This absolutely is. Diavolo doesn’t just perform movement. They build it. They inhabit it. They dare you to feel it. And by the end, you don’t just feel like you’ve watched something different, you feel like you’ve survived it with them.
(Note: This production supports the Diavolo Veterans Project, which helps restore emotional, mental, and physical strength to veterans.)



