A Human Twist on Circus as Spectacle

Montreal’s Cirque du Soleil, founded in 1984, has developed into a hydra-headed monster that eats nothing but talented young acrobats. With permanent shows in Las Vegas and Disney World, five Cirque productions touring the globe and even its own Imax movie, it would seem that Cirque du Soleil has cornered the market on surreal fantasy played out on ropes, trapezes and high wires--and probably exhausted the world supply of lithe bodies able to perform such fantastical feats.

So there is a tendency to walk into a performance by Montreal’s 9-year-old Cirque Eloize thinking: “Yeah, OK, Cirque du whatever.” You expect it to be delicious but probably the same French-Canadian meal you’ve already enjoyed at one of Cirque du Soleil’s numerous incarnations.

But even with their undeniable similarities in tone, title and nationality, Cirque Eloize--which presented the United States premiere of its newest creation, “Nomade,” at UCLA’s Royce Hall on Friday--is a different sort of Cirque than, well, Cirque. The intimate, low-tech charm of Cirque Eloize--so named for the flashes of heat-lightning common to the company’s native Magdalen Islands off the coast of Quebec--and the glossy, ready-for-Vegas Cirque du Soleil are as unlike as sunshine and storm.

Through elaborate costumes and masks, Cirque du Soleil productions create an alien world of dazzling life forms from new planets invented for the occasion. Some Cirque shows even invent their own mysterious languages. “Nomade,” which closed Sunday, is very much about humans--very peculiar humans, but humans all the same.

“Nomade” is performed on a proscenium stage, rather than under a circus tent, with minimal costumes and a live band of minstrels on hand to play composer Lucie Cauchon’s accordion-laced music--part French cabaret, part klezmer, part New Orleans funeral jazz. The show, directed by Finzi Pasca, loosely follows the story of two gypsy bands of circus performers as they make their way to a wedding.

Along the way, they converse with one another, argue with one another and challenge one another through feats of juggling, dancing, singing, tumbling, ax-throwing, levitation, trapeze-riding, balancing and contortion (tall, dark-haired Genevieve Gauthier most assuredly wins the prize in this category).

The multi-talented cast members move easily through the various forms of acrobatics. Humor--mostly the responsibility of the two clowns, Bartlomiej Soroczynski and Nicholas Leresche--is amiably slapstick and corny, with both of these agile performers able to jump into the acrobatic sequences without missing a step.

The troupe offers fine solo performances--standouts are Stefan Wepfer in an elegant balletic routine on the Chinese pole and chatty Suzanne Soler offering a breathless monologue about awaiting her dream suitor while swinging on her trapeze.

But it is as an ensemble that the troupe shines brightest. The cast of 20-odd artists becomes one as it juggles dozens of flying pins, forms intricate sculptures in a remarkable hand-to-hand balancing act or collectively holds its breath as petite Ewelina Fijolek climbs up to execute a handstand on a precariously tall stack of chairs. By the end, you feel like you know them all. People like you--just a little more flexible.