Funny, fantastical, slightly freakish

Who is popping bubble wrap in the theater? And who are those creatures in filthy hoodies and long skirts, scurrying behind the audience and stacking egg cartons?

The show had not yet begun, but four slightly grotesque grown-up clowns and two kid clowns already were making mischief.

This is Punch, Miro Dance Theatre's hour-long suite of comedic dance at the Kimmel Center's Innovation Studio. It is based on the stock commedia dell'arte character Pulcinella, who has been showing up in theaters, puppet shows, and stories around the world for eons. Quiet here in recent years, Pulcinella (also known as Punch) is the focus of at least three productions during the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts.

Miro's version, which was commissioned by PIFA and premiered Thursday night, is danced in a square space, with audience members seated around it on all four sides, to original music by Zeena Parkins. It is funny, fantastical, and slightly freakish. The dancers strut around the perimeter of the stage, holding digital picture frames with more outlandish expressions than their generally deadpan faces.

Andre Zachery dances a bravura solo during which he interrupts himself frequently to investigate a smell. Is it on stage? Is it in the audience? Is it you, right there in the front row?

Paul Struck breathes loudly and rhythmically into a microphone. His breathing turns ragged, and he heaves again and again, before spewing a hard-boiled egg from his mouth.

Dana Dlugosz appears heavily pregnant. She moans and contracts, as the other dancers by turns ignore her or toss her in the air. Finally, she "gives birth" - to almost two dozen hard-boiled eggs.

The egg jokes never get old in Punch. Artistic director-dancer Amanda Miller strides around the stage, showing off the prize for the fight that is about to happen - an egg cup and two spoons. Zachery and Struck perform an over-the-top, WWE-style wrestling bout, jumping, strangling, and dragging each other. Finally, they give up and sit down to eat the egg.

Between scenes, the dancers stroll around with baskets, begging for money, street-theater style. Ignore a kid clown (Caleb or Malcolm McCreary), and he'll make puppy-dog-whining noises until you open your wallet.

Punch, light and entertaining, leaves audience members smiling.

Eggcellent.