No, really. Clowns. Real, true to life clowns.
Much anticipated, Karin and I went to Cirque du Soleil: Alegria last night. For those who are counting, that was our second time at the world reknown French-Canadian circus. They are on a multi-year multi-city tour — and this summer they are peddling their $75 tickets in Vancouver.
I would avoid a review, but anything I say about it — whether I’m writing about the fumbling clowns, the parodied themes, or the indoor blizzard scene — is going to be interpretted as a review in some sense of the word. In fact — and those of you regulars who come to this site because you actually know the URL are exempt from this — a number of people have probably stumbled upon these words specifically from typing the words “cirque du soleil vancouver” (or “cirque du soliel” for those with slippery fingers) into Google, thinking they will read.up on what they are about to see, and hope someone — somewhere — has graced the omniverse with their opinions.
Not wanting to disappoint those few people, I will oblige and provide you all with a free, yet valuable, review:
The show was amazing. And I know everyone says that, but it’s not without cause.
First, I will supply some statistics: We sat in section 203, Row H, Seats 1 and 2. Apart from some big-headed folk (and this was a circus so you might expect I’m talking about the show — but I’m not. Literally, the people in front of us had BIG heads.) the view was only marginally (like 3% of the stage) obstructed by a support column. It is a tent afterall. The show trickled into existence, casually starting and building with some in-audience clown antics around 8PM and exploded to a finish with a four-curtain call standing ovation at about 2 hours of performance and 30 minutes of intermission about half-way through. If your coming hungry, bring lots of money. Popcorn and pop will cost you a minimum of ten bucks.
I could tell you more about the show: about how my mouth dried out because I sat there with my jaw on the ground the whole evening. I could tell you about how amazing it was to realize that the music — the wild opratic arias to the howling percussion — was all live and spectacular. I could marvel you with the surreality of watching someone bend their body into a hundred pretzelish positions, soar around the air, or suspend themselves a thousands times with exacting precision, cooridnation, and strength. But it was a circus, after all, and you would probably be expecting me to write that.
Besides, I don’t want any angry clowns showing up at my office with baseball bats for ruining the surprise.