Despite having heard of the world famous Cirque du Soleil (the circus troupe, not the club night at Canal Mills) multiple times before, I really didn’t know what to expect when I headed to First Direct Arena to see their first ever nation-wide tour of Varekai, their latest performance.
A couple of comedic ushers (Sean Kempton and Emily Carragher), bumbling around the crowd ‘polishing’ bald heads, and dragging an unsuspecting couple who couldn’t find their seats up on stage was not the introduction I expected, but it was the start of a fine balance between serious jaw-dropping acrobatics and silly slapstick comedy that defined the show.
TV shows such as Britain’s Got Talent, where acts are forced to show off their most impressive and daring tricks in a three-minute audition, have made us slightly desensitised to impressive stunts. We’re desperate for the adrenaline of life-risking performances, so it was refreshing to see Cirque restrain from this in-your-face extravagance. This is an art they have perfected, and they have nothing to prove.
There isn’t really a story arc or plot to the show; it’s made up of a series of set pieces with an overall aesthetic theme. Varekai (meaning ‘wherever’ in the Romani language) takes place in a forest at the base of a volcano. A series of bamboo-like poles guard the rear of the stage, allowing the ensemble to leap up and down at will, and the whole cast were dressed in an array of brightly-coloured luscious costumes, like tropical insects in the jungle.
‘Varekai (meaning ‘wherever’ in the Romani language) takes place in a forest at the base of a volcano’
One of the first scenes features an Icarus-like figure, performed by Fernando Miro, falling from the sky and landing on the forest floor, to be surrounded by creatures who torment him and steal his wings. He’s soon sent flying back up with the help of a net, which he utilises in a number of different ways, swinging around the stage before plummeting to within inches of the ground. There’s not much reason to these little short stories, and if you try too hard to figure out ‘what’s going on’, you’ll miss the enjoyment of the show. It’s all about being swept up in the breathtaking skill of the performers.
The show is, of course, a global phenomenon, performed in countless countries and employing more than 1,300 artists from around the world, and therefore language isn’t really a medium they can employ to engage with their audience. Most of the characters/ creatures communicate in gibberish, the songs are sung in a foreign tongue, and the comedy relies on extravagant slapstick humour to connect with its audience. With Euro power ballads, weird and wonderful costumes and extravagant dance routines, it’s hard not to liken aspects of the show to Eurovision Song Contest – except here the dancers are supposed to steal the limelight.
‘With Euro power ballads, weird and wonderful costumes and extravagant dance routines, it’s hard not to liken aspects of the show to Eurovision Song Contest’
But the show really comes in to its own towards the end, when a team of acrobats use a set of Russian swings to launch themselves in to the air, and complete daring somersaults and backflips before landing elegantly on a safety net. This scene provided both mind blowing stunts and a fun and upbeat atmosphere, two things that the rest of the show arguably struggles to reconcile.
Varekai is an impressive feat, avoiding cheap stunts in favour of a refined and polished work of art. The stunts are impressive, and the performances faultless, so despite the pace and energy dipping occasionally, this is well worth a look.
Jessica Murray
(Image courtesy of Cirque du Soleil)