Let’s talk about audience participation.

It’s a finicky thing, getting random people to pay money to do things they weren’t entirely aware they would have to do. But, if there is a really great reason for it and nobody ends up suing, the reward is a richly involving personal experience that cannot be matched from the comforts of an arm chair.

My Life in Boxes is one of those shows that get it right.

Circus, dance theatre and good old-fashioned acting warmly embrace each other throughout the show to bring a love story of a dying pathological hoarder to full life. Circus performer Tim Rutty and actor/writer Tarah Carey sway all across the small space and up the very walls, and it is fantastic.

The audience is led to a small industrialised room in the top back corner of a warehouse/factory performance building, and you will be convinced that every inch of the building is part of the show. There are no seats for the audience to relax into. There are only boxes.

There is little time to settle in. Audience members are enlisted into the story itself before they’ve even entered the room. Those who manage to slip past the first audience participation challenge find curtains, windows with sliding panels, a hanging silk sheet, a trapeze and a climbing rope. Oh, and boxes. Cardboard boxes. Crates. A pile of boxes welcomes us in to this moment in the life of our hoarder heroine. On the odd occasion, the audience is able to take a seat on a box, though the action shifts between every corner and every side of the room to the other and we are skilfully involved in all parts of this.

The performances from both were strong throughout, although Rutty’s expression was occasionally over-tense. A little lightness of the eyes may have done wonders. Carey is a skilled performer all around – she embodies her character and the spirit of the show with ease and power. Little wonder that she was also behind the writing of the piece as she shines with a lot of love for it.

The marriage of circus, dance and theatre conventions is by no means contrived. It is as if every element of the show was created with this combination in mind, and it really is a unique and lovely experience as a result. Characters are cleverly able to express themselves beyond the traditional framework of theatre through tightly choreographed and emotive movement.

When audience members are made a part of the show, doubt in the mind of the performers can wring the show to pieces. This is no issue for this pair. They believe in every step they make, and it is clear that they have created something from far within themselves. And with such an emphasis on drawing the audience into that world, into the story and the feelings of the characters, they are inviting us in. We are welcomed to join them on their journey, and we take every step side by side with them.