Fuerza Bruta’s Aven is not just a show, it’s a night out. A DJ set starts half an hour before the start time and, on some evenings, continues until late. The beat is loud, the space is clubby and the bar is open. Running right through till September (with afternoon performances, too), it has the trappings of a summer blockbuster: big on spectacle, pumped with energy and loaded with set pieces and special effects. The audience stands throughout – some seated places are available – and the show mostly happens above us. A big inflated globe sails in, four suspended performers running horizontally around it, chasing and catching each other, and pausing to whip up applause. One man rises and falls in a huge wind machine filled with a storm of confetti. A woman paces over our heads in a tank of shallow water; a man attaches himself below, and the two thrash and splash in sync. There’s a lineup of four dancers on a rotating travelator, bopping away like a backing group. A woman flails inside a zoetrope-style mobile of big butterflies that seem to flap their wings in the strobe lights. That’s just for starters. A woman whirls around a spinning crane, racing on air. A wind machine blasts streams of smoke that the dancers, affixed to rotating chairs, disrupt with their twists and arches. The pièce de résistance is a zeppelin-like blue whale that bobs over us, its open innards revealing the men and machinery that operate it. Performers and technicians work hard throughout, both to keep the show going and the crowd cheering – a sign of a certain hollowness of heart. A summer blockbuster is a marketing package, but shouldn’t feel like one. Aven does. Its headlong rush of short scenes will certainly look fantastic in digital bursts on Instagram and TikTok (audiences are encouraged to use their cameraphones), but the analogue experience is – a bit like that whale – unsatisfying: short-impact, single-idea special effects that don’t last long or mean much.