Picture, if you can, this Act One finale.

A gymnast at the top of a falling aluminum stepladder breaks into a swan dive from 15 feet up, bounces off the trampoline tummy of a wailing soprano in a Wagnerian headdress, and summersaults smack into the middle of a grand piano, bringing it crashing down around him. Meanwhile, a bass fiddle chases the conductor in airy circles high above the stage.

It's wild, it's irreverent, and it's Circus Oz, playing just this week at the Hawai'i Theatre.

It doesn't take a kangaroo on a flying trapeze to prove you're not in Kansas, but this troupe of dancing, singing, clowning circus performers prove they can deliver some offbeat entertainment that you will enjoy.

And, yes, one of them dons a kangaroo suit to swing through the air.

It's tempting to reference Cirque du Soleil in describing Circus Oz, but the company takes pains to emphasize that it has been around much longer, originating in Australia in 1977. While Cirque strives for a surreal, arty flavor, Oz is much more vaudevillian, baggy pants and poke-in-the-face.

They also perform traditional circus acts, but without real animals.

With only about a dozen in the cast, everybody doubles up. Some even play in the orchestra. Ten people pile on a single bicycle. Eight dangle weightlessly from a vertical fireman's pole. And everybody, at some point, does back flips, cartwheels, tumbling and balance poses.

Scott Hone rides a trick bicycle to the accompaniment of an accordion player, then turns it into a two-wheeled bull to charge away at a matador in a bullfight sequence. Ben Lewis hangs from a couple of canvas strips in an act that blends tough-guy muscle with aerial ballet. A contortionist bends herself into a glass box while a singer gargles "Lady of Spain" through a mouthful of pink lemonade.

While traditional circuses often feature sturdy women, Mel Fyfe takes the prize for nontraditional casting in this production. She first appears as a Strong Lady, bending over backwards to allow three cement pavers to be smashed on her midsection by an iron mallet. Later, she tumbles with ease into a graceful split, then joins the rest of the gang for some comic action on the trapeze, flying with full-figured aplomb, bringing laughs and dashing stereotypes with each effortless catch.

There's a juggler backed up by three dancing chorus boys in white tailcoats and a flaming finale to send you home with a bit of spectacle.

Circus Oz has a friendly, unpretentious, Down Under appeal that kids will like and may have the old folks fondly remembering specialty acts from the old "Ed Sullivan Show."