Pierre Ulric’s Lucid Dreams is an approachable, fun, and weird magic show that’s part theatre, part dreamscape, and in no part vocal.

Stage set with the essentials for an office environment, the audience observes their host’s surreal meanderings in a narrative that calls on both Kafka’s isolated protagonists and Dali’s surrealism.

Alone in the office, with only intermittent text messages conveying his contact with the outside world, Ulric personifies a bored, confined, and ever-distracted worker. Without direct acknowledgement of the audience before him, Ulric forms an affinity that’s quite remarkable.

As we peer through smoke to spot subtleties in movement, we’re as captivated as if we were listening to a monologue of increasingly surreal content.

Ulric’s skills as an illusionist are utilised throughout the performance, with a deft combination of transformation, transportation, and transposition tricks delighting the crowd.

True to the title, this show plays much like a dream. It may seem that the narrative is fragmented, or non-sensical, but in fact it’s cleverly reminiscent of the illogical and emotive nature of dreams. As items vanish and reappear, the protagonist appears unsettled, but in a disconnected and unreal way.

The space shifts with Ulric, as time neither passes nor stops, thanks to imaginative lighting. Without a word spoken we are treated to excellent characterization through movement and expression.

Lucid Dreams is a show that demands no more of the audience than observation. It’s an ideal choice for someone who appreciates illusion but prefers not to be called upon to become part of the performance.

While the setting and narrative are intriguing, and Ulric’s command of the craft is impressive, the production lacks a little in density—resulting in occasional issues with pacing.

Refreshing for its deviation from classical magic shows, Lucid Dreams is a thoroughly enjoyable and thought provoking experience.