Chouf Ouchouf @ Macrobert

Traditional dance and acrobatics are increasingly under threat. Every year, another company rolls up at the Fringe, with a spectacular show, based on a nation’s indigenous dance, adds a sentimental narrative, possibly about the country’s quest for identity, throws in sexually attractive yet unthreatening dancers and moves. Claiming to be for all ages, they simplify ideas of national culture and performance, relying on the odd impressive trick and the popularity of undemanding entertainment. They pretend to bring insight into other ways of life, while prostituting the innocent art form as an exotic choreography. They are the aesthetic heirs of the minstrel shows. There are probably Morris and Highland dance versions touring the far east, while Africa and South America sends us tango, capoeira and acrobats.

Chouf Ouchouf takes five minutes to suggest that Morocco’s time has come. A sparky hip-hop introduction, a series of impressive tricks delights the children and insists that the audience clap along. They set up the format, get the audience on side and present a cheerful tableaux of interchangeable athletes. It’s all grinning, all bouncing, all extravagant. They could compete on Britain's Got Talent.

Once the audience has been warmed up, the company pull a sharp trick. Not content to spend an hour flipping and clambering, they lead the mood into more complex territory, linking together a picaresque structure through strong characterisation, they do evoke the medina and a place of change and barter: the wandering musician becomes a melancholic gesture and the mobile set – a wall that becomes monoliths, shop fronts and hiding places – glides across the stage, while the dancers flicker in and out of symbolic personalities. Morrocco becomes a mixture of modern beach resort and medieval village, the strains of traditional music haunting the parade of sunglasses and posing muscle-men: a brutal altercation undermines the charm of a local market. An unknown threat scatters the hawkers and night gradually falls on the vibrant town.

Meanwhile, children are still laughing, and come out at the end trying to copy the fancy balancing acts. Chin-strokers are satisfied by the moody lighting and constant shifts of emotion: the acrobats impress with their strength and flexibility, having put their skills to the service of abstract story-telling. When so much popular performance is all glittering surface and trivia, Chouf Ouchouf have substance. They never let proficiency get in the way of character, but maintain a humour and charm for even the youngest viewer. More than just entertaining and though provoking, they offer a way for international performance to escape the trap of gurning pandering to the most obvious expectations.