July 26, 2007
Big fun under the big top
I know that Cirque du Soleil has its fans -- but I find it too frou-frou, self-consciously artistic and pretentious, which may seem strange given all my own pretensions and affectations, but I can never make heads or tails of the incoherent pseudo-narratives of love and loss they thread through their shows. It may be impolitic to say so, but I go to the circus for the animal acts: the lions, tigers and elephants, even the acrobatic dogs. I still recall with pleasure seeing the famous dancing bears of The Moscow Circus. I remain a sucker for the high-wire acts, the trapeze, the human pyramids and, yes, the human cannonball, which still thrills me. This is what I was eager to share with my daughter.
During my childhood, Ringling Bros. made regular appearances at the old Madison Square Garden and we went often. My father loved parades and he loved the circus (I think his first girlfriend may have been a circus performer in Poland).
One highlight of my childhood was when I got to go "backstage." My best friend in second grade, Bill Doll, Jr., had a father who was a legendary PR man, whose clients included Ringling Bros. We got to pet the elephants. I haven't seen or heard of Bill Doll in many decades, but I can't go to the circus without thinking of him.
Today, the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus makes the "backstage" approach available to everyone in their free "All Access Pre-Show," where ticket holders can come down to the arena floor an hour before the show to meet and greet some of the performers, participate in juggling and face painting and watch the elephants paint their own works of art.
I had read that Ringling Bros. was getting rid of their three rings and adding a narrative to their shows to better compete with Cirque du Soleil as well as more intimate shows such as the Big Apple Circus -- but that was not true of the show I attended at Staples Center.
This was the "Bellobration" show, which pivots around Bello the clown. Bello Nock, whose trademark blond hair stands on end, is part Harold Lloyd, part Pee-Wee Herman and is both acrobat and clown. Early in the show there was some attempt at a story line involving his affections for aerialist Erendira Wallenda, but that faded quickly, as the successive acts took hold in three-ring glory. Thank goodness.
The show itself has been modernized with the addition of a JumboTron, on which Bello appears in humorous prerecorded segments and which shows close-ups of the acts. Ty McFarlan, the ringmaster, has been less successfully updated: no top hat and no whip, and at one point he wore a costume that looked like he just came from a Star Wars convention -- some things should hew to tradition.
Now for the animal acts: Cesar Milan would have no problem with the way Chilean Tabayara Antonio Maluenda de Campos (Taba) dominated his tigers, putting them through their paces in the caged ring. The white tigers on their hind legs were a fearsome sight. The Zotovas from Russia had dancing and prancing dogs, while the Olates from Chile had a fast-paced performance of acrobatic pooches who alternatively impressed and made you laugh; the Schwichtenbergs, Bulgarian natives, lead their Arabian, Fjord and Friesian horses and their zebras through paces that showcased their animals' beauty, grace and elegance. Finally, the elephants made several appearances, including a finale where they stood on their hind legs on platforms, their front legs resting on each other in a conga line of gargantuan proportions.
At this point, I should mention that animal rights activists have for some time targeted the circus -- there were a handful of protesters outside the Staples Center. Ringling Bros. in no way avoided the issue; to the contrary throughout the show, in their programs and in all their public and press materials, they went to great length to discuss their animal care and preservation approach.
And now back to the show: In the air, we watched the flying Poemas, originally from Argentina, doing multiple somersaults; brothers Alberto and Mauricio Aguilar from Mexico performing great tricks on two parallel wires; Erendira on the sway pole, and her husband Nikolas Wallenda (son of the Flying Wallenda family) performing on "The Wheel of Steel," a Thunderdome-type contraption that spins like an amusement park ride, except that Wallenda is powering it by running on its outside.
Back on the ground, the Zunyi Troupe of Chinese contortionists assembled and reassembled themselves in mind-boggling human pyramids while the Ringling Bros. International Dancers -- the circus' version of Rockettes or Lakers Girls -- offered some glitz and eye candy for adults; the clowns performed a succession of routines throughout the program that my daughter enjoyed heartily (although I did miss the classic clown car and ambulance routines). The show's finale included Tina and Brian Miser of Peru, Ind., self-taught human cannonballs flying together out of a cannon Brian had custom made.
About now, you may be wondering, as my readers frequently do: What possible Jewish angle will there be to this column? Good question.
When I called Andy Perez, a Ringling Bros. spokesperson, to ask if there were any current Ringling Bros. performers who were Jewish or who came from Jewish circus families, he referred me to Jennifer Becker of Foundry Ink, his local publicist who was unable to locate any Jewish members of the show.
Perhaps Jewish circus performers have gone the way of Jewish boxers -- a profession that flourished as part of an outsider, immigrant experience but that disappeared as Jews gained increased acceptance into white collar professional class and society in general. This is too bad, as Jews have a long history with the circus.