Quidam in The O2Review by SARA KEATINGPublished: Thursday, April 2, 2009 In the age of cinematic CGI effects, it is easy to become cynical about the circus. Technology has been manipulating the possibilities of the human body for decades now: superheroes are humans who can fly, become invisible, duplicate themselves, be in two places at the same time. However, Cirque du Soleil replicates such awesome superhuman abilities, without illusion, without special effects, and Quidam, one of 17 shows that the company is currently touring worldwide, is a testament to the amazing potential of the human body. A loose story places a bored 12-year-old in an alternative universe where amorphous dancers and anonymous masked technicians alternately entertain and frighten her. A live score, composed by Benoit Jutras, provides a more concrete narrative; its playful, haunting, exhilarating rise-and-fall telling a story of its own. The thin whistle of Ella Bangs' soprano solos as the lost child Zoë provide structure to the score’s densely thickened atmosphere of danger and drama, ensuring that the sequence of stunning tricks maintains a narrative focus. Those tricks are, quite literally, jaw-dropping. Woven together by Debra Brown’s fluid choreography, they include circus standards like hand-balancing, aerial contortions, German wheels and diabolo juggling, and yet in Cirque du Soleil’s company these tricks are anything but routine. The performers are so good that their opening exercises leave the audience breathless, wondering where the trick can possibly build to. Could there be any finale that tops what went before? Apparently so. The tiny diabolo jugglers, four young Chinese girls, perform impossible acrobatic feats as they tease us with their astonishing skill, their marionette-dance a charming enhancement of the otherworldly atmosphere. Olga Pikhienko’s solo seems like a remarkable double-jointed deed, as she blends contortionism with her hand-balancing act. Jerome Le Baut and Anna Vicente’s controlled balletic statue act is a strongman and strongwoman team of phenomenal physical power, while words cannot describe the astounding floor show which provides the finale, as bodies, appearing from nowhere, sail through the air. That, after such miraculous displays of physical flair, a clown (Toto Castineiras) should steal the show, suggests just how absolutely brilliant Quidam is. This is circus theatre so good that you’ll never go again for fear of disappointment. Unless, of course, it’s to Cirque du Soleil. Until Saturday |
