There’s something so frail – so mortal – in the screen-first posturing of modern-day gym bros. Where do their exhibitionist gains go, beyond puffing up retrograde ideas of muscular masculinity and serving the tumescent titans of Big Protein?

Return of the GODZ lightly spoofs the rise of this new breed of man – while showing how truly divine the male body can be when trained athleticism serves a higher, creatively explosive calling. Giddily entertaining and genuinely spectacular, this is clowning Magic Mike set in Mount Olympus, with our five Godz cavorting through myth, mayhem and mischief, unclothed and unbridled.

Coming in hot and sweaty from a sold-out run in London’s West End, the show earned a ‘Best in Circus’ shortlisting the first week of Sydney Fringe and, running all the way into October, looks a sure bet for festival category gold.

Return of the Godz. Photo © Belinda Rolland

The air of exquisite bathos is established early, as Hermes, Hercules, Dionysus, Apollo and Cupid perform gobsmacking group callisthenics that press faces to moister areas.

From there, in varying combinations and with seamless transitions, the Godz begin snubbing gravity and fate in every which way – Dionysus cheerily hurling knives within inches of his fellow’s loins; the saucily coquettish Cupid (who later transforms into Zeus in pleasers) whirling through the air; Hermes spinning halfway up to heaven on his curly-locked head; Apollo making this pantheon almighty indeed.

Human pyramids, acrobatics, breakdancing, trampolining, aerial – all this energetic prowess can fatigue an audience’s capacity for awe. I’ve attended many ‘straight’ circus shows where the onus to be impressed grows taxing; where all that clapping at stunt after death-defying stunt becomes a begrudging and wearisome chore.

Return of the Godz is canny to this challenge and triumphs over it, deploying character, narrative sketches, and (best of all) physical comedy to choreograph exhilarating tension and release. A few show teasers include the very wicked use of a rubber knife, a whip-cracking routine that doesn’t play the audience for dumb, and Cupid screeching at the sound guy for clashing a cymbal at a delicate, nerve-shredding moment.

A voyeuristic interlude to the fast-paced action sees our gods as Greek statues being polished with a feather duster, followed by a Full Monty strip with five unclad bodies and four golden shields.

Return of the Godz. Photo © Belinda Rolland

Wild as the first half may be, the second act trumps it, plunging Hercules (with impeccably defined everything and gladiator sandals) into the underworld for the sin of ‘dancing naked with his cousins’. After Uncle Hades pops up in a bumbag, a maniacally unholy drag parody ensues, climaxing in a nun castrating our divine hero mid-air with her chompers.

Truly, this is a blessed sight following the saga of Sydney’s late Divine Playhouse – a would-be new queer performing arts venue in a deconsecrated church, that was tragically shut down by the loud campaigning of a few far-right fools. They’d hate this show as much as ticket-buyers love it.

Soaringly debauched, naughty and extraordinary, the Godz presents Fringe at its most masterfully sculpted, in artistic and human form.

Return of the GODZ plays Fool’s Paradise, Entertainment Quarter, Moore Park until 11 October.