What separates ‘s latest show to play Denver, from its predecessors is the story line that weaves through the show, with ritual and romance forming the warp, colored by the exquisite aerial and balancing acts of the weft.
is a word conjuring both “mother” and “moon,” and the cast is predominantly female, including the on drums, guitar, saxophone, bass, violoncello and percussion.
The show begins with a floating scarf, establishing a female dynamic and creating an atmosphere that invokes enough to keep doctoral thesis writers busy for decades. Even the .
The is set on an island awash in lizard-boys, bright sprites, camouflage-suited sailors and Valkyries in red tights, all orchestrated by luminous Prospera ( , who also plays violoncello, saxophone and sings hauntingly) and temperamental Moon Goddess ( ).
Prospera and Moon Goddess tangle a bit over the romance between Prospera’s daughter, Miranda (contortionist ), and Romeo ( who does a nearly literally mind-blowing pole routine).
This is a circus, so of course there are clowns ( and ). This excellent pair are Shakespearean, not the creatures of . And their progeny lend new meaning to the concept of for infants.
The show is replete with subtle, intelligent nods to myths and (especially and ); choreographic references to , , and ; and an exquisite balancing act (performed by ) visited by ‘s spirit.
Among the most animated creatures in the cast: Cali ( ), a Caliban-ish lizard-man with a prehensile tail and that singular Cirque blend of danger and joy. If you’re sitting in one of the first few rows, both your popcorn and your dignity are at risk. (Especially if you buy one of those $3 red clown noses at the upscale concessions stand.)
Ignore the intellectual references, and you’ll still be mesmerized. Unicyclists , wearing architectural hoop skirts that morph into wings, are at once childlike and sexy. The eight acrobats in “Icarians and Water Meteors” twirl glowing discs that look like a fairy version of . (Too bad those aren’t at the concessions stand.)
Really, the whole cast is extraordinary, and frequently in more than one discipline. Cirque du Soleil’s soundtracks are celebrated for their innovative combinations of instruments and vocals, and McInnes’ portentous voice fills the air like mist.
The inventive revolving set, by , is full of surprises, including a vast bowl that’s a cross between a and a caldron. The costumes, by , become extensions of the wearer’s body, especially those supple lizard boleros and ‘s marvelous white peacock dress.
A word about the stunts: “Amaluna” is an utterly mesmerizing show, but its most breathtaking moments involve the sort of anticipation untainted by a sense of imminent peril. Unlike “Ka,” the Las Vegas show in which the thrills sought in “Amaluna” are the kind that most mothers would condone.
Claire Martin: 303-954-1477, cmartin@denverpost.com or twitter.com/byclairemartin
“amaluna”
This gorgeous show combines a smart narrative full of references to theater and dance classics, and acts of strength, precision, timing and balance that literally are breathtaking.
“AMALUNA” This gorgeous show combines a smart narrative full of references to theater and dance classics, and acts of strength, precision, timing and balance that literally are breathtaking. “Amaluna” plays through Aug. 25 in Denver at the Pepsi Center complex.
