Cirque du Soleil enchants with OVO

A spider and her web
Copyright © 2010, Cirque du Soleil

Grasshoppers bound, spiders crawl, beetles and ladybugs scamper, and fireflies flitter. All is well in this complex and frenetic ecosystem. Until, of course, a mysterious egg appears, carried on the back of a sparkling blue fly. And then, out of nowhere, frenzy turns to curiosity as an intricate story of birth, love, competition and friendship begins to unfold.

This is OVO, the latest grand spectacle from the amazing Cirque du Soleil. The Montreal-based troupe has once again brought its trademark blue-and-yellow Grand Chapiteau (big tent) to San Jose, home to the show until March 21st. And like the tent, everything about OVO is pure Cirque du Soleil.

OVO, which means egg in Latin, serves as a loose focus for the series of events and performances that unfold on the circular stage. The real heart of the show, however, are the multi-hued and stunningly-costumed insects which, from the very start, are all around you (and in some cases, even above you).

Breathtaking feats of acrobatics and agility follow, as you would expect from Cirque du Soleil, but the success of OVO rests equally with the storytelling and pacing, which shifts seamlessly between gymnastics, choreography and yes, even some old fashioned clowning (with an indescribable French-Canadian flavor).

Clowning of any sort is a hit or miss affair, depending on whether you’re in on the joke I suppose. But suffice to say, you’ll be describing a number of the more creative visual gags to friends long after the show is over. Notwithstanding that, the clowning also serves as an emotional break from both the hyperactive dance sequences — where so much is going on at once it’s difficult to decide what to watch — to the awe-inspiring acrobatics where it seems you’re often holding your breath both for and with the performers.

The performances themselves feature the usual mix of high-wire, low-wire, and no-wire magic, all from the perspective of the insect world in which OVO resides. Ants juggle kiwis and corn on the cob with their feet, a butterfly emerges from a chrysalis of mesh and rope overhead, and two others consummate an elaborate mating ritual twirling high above our heads and sealing their passion with a kiss.

Two spiders complete stunning contortions, as grasshoppers watch from every conceivable angle while circulating on an elaborate spider web. And in perhaps the most visually dazzling sequence of the evening, a troupe of arthropods defy gravity (as they often seem to do) in a kaleidoscopic sequence of spinning, flying, and wall-walking.

All wonderful performances, to be sure. But what sets Cirque du Soleil apart is the combination of acrobatics and theatre, where each performer is really an actor within a greater story. This story, superficially, is the particular theme of the evening (in this case, the mystery of OVO). But Cirque du Soleil performers are also playing out a larger narrative, one in which the grace and wonder of humanity shines, where the beautiful and the spectacular become the expected but never ordinary or routine.

The audience, I come to realize, implicitly understands this, and stands with the cast. Even during the extremely rare slip-up, the audience is ever-forgiving and encouraging, cheering even louder the second time. We realize perhaps that, just like Cirque du Soleil’s OVO, we’re all part of a mysterious yet symbiotic choreography, a grand spectacle where the magnificent is all around us and likely well within our reach.