In the limelight - Circus Gatti
March 8, 2011 Georgia Temple Midland Reporter-Telegram
By Graham Dixon
By Graham Dixon
Running away from home to join the circus has often seemed a romantic proposition for many young people. When entertainment choices were few and far between, the arrival of the circus in town was a time of frenetic excitement. But a lack of choice has turned into a dazzling array - from movie theaters to video games to computers to home entertainment systems - we are spoiled by an abundance of ways to entertain ourselves.
So when a circus does come to town it is a nostalgic event. The quality of Circus Gatti varied tremendously - from periods of embarrassingly slow tedium to adrenalin-filled acts in which lives were, quite literally, hanging on the line. In between there were animal acts that ranged from the surrealistically repetitive - Shetland ponies going round, and round, and round a ring - to the familiar, such as dogs leaping through hoops.
The circus ringmaster tried to get the audience going, but something about the cavernous spaces of the Chaparral Center made intimacy difficult. Leo the Clown was frankly often abysmally unfunny. Gags such as catching hoops over the head were extended tortuously beyond their half-life. And while it is not a necessity, surely a clown should speak a lot or, as is the tradition, not at all. Leo was 90 percent mime and 10 percent a character unfortunate enough to have a voice like Scratchy from The Simpsons. Leo's expeditions into the audience were appreciated enough by the children near to him, but much of the arena was silent.
If one has been lucky enough to see a Cirque de Soleil show - I would recommend Love and Zumanity in Las Vegas - most circus aerial acts will seem a little disappointing. Of course the performers are displaying great courage and skill simply hanging from ropes and sheets 50 feet above the floor - but audiences have been lulled into expecting the spectacular. If the Cirque offers a type of real-life CGI, the traveling acts are crude magic lanterns -- they simply cannot compete.
So when the group of ladies dressed as bees ascended into the heights we were left waiting for something - only for them to slowly make their way down to the floor. But the two motorcyclists racing around in a ball changed the drowsy atmosphere into one of suspended breathing and little gulps. It is shuddering to think what might happen to these brave young men if something did go wrong. There is no margin for error in this act.
The intermission featured elephant rides, an opportunity to be photographed with a boa-constrictor and a Shetland pony ride in which - you guessed it - the equines went round, and round, and round. Shetland ponies are known for their ill-temper, but these particular individuals seemed to be in a sleepy stupor. The same might be said of the snake -- who looked fearsome enough as he was draped over brave families - but who on closer inspection was shown to have his mouth shut tight by a miniature muzzle.
After the intermission there were more animals, more acrobatics, more clown acts of dubious quality. But at the end came a tight-rope act - the Meza Troupe -- that was exhilarating, electrifying and disturbing. Standing on the floor of the arena, I noticed a young man quietly standing a few feet away - nervous, with eyes closed and eventually crossing himself. He walked unsteadily up the wire, nearly falling when at a safe height. When high above the arena, he actually lost his footing, saving himself by wrapping a knee round the wire. He then continued with the act. He even stood on his head on the wire. If his physical uncertainty was part of a well-rehearsed show then he is the Olivier of tightrope walkers. From his expression as he descended the ladder at the end it was clear that he had, in fact, nearly fallen.
As a species we find watching others risking death strangely life-affirming. The Circus Gatti achieved this end with room to spare. We just had to wait two-and-a-half hours to get there
So when a circus does come to town it is a nostalgic event. The quality of Circus Gatti varied tremendously - from periods of embarrassingly slow tedium to adrenalin-filled acts in which lives were, quite literally, hanging on the line. In between there were animal acts that ranged from the surrealistically repetitive - Shetland ponies going round, and round, and round a ring - to the familiar, such as dogs leaping through hoops.
The circus ringmaster tried to get the audience going, but something about the cavernous spaces of the Chaparral Center made intimacy difficult. Leo the Clown was frankly often abysmally unfunny. Gags such as catching hoops over the head were extended tortuously beyond their half-life. And while it is not a necessity, surely a clown should speak a lot or, as is the tradition, not at all. Leo was 90 percent mime and 10 percent a character unfortunate enough to have a voice like Scratchy from The Simpsons. Leo's expeditions into the audience were appreciated enough by the children near to him, but much of the arena was silent.
If one has been lucky enough to see a Cirque de Soleil show - I would recommend Love and Zumanity in Las Vegas - most circus aerial acts will seem a little disappointing. Of course the performers are displaying great courage and skill simply hanging from ropes and sheets 50 feet above the floor - but audiences have been lulled into expecting the spectacular. If the Cirque offers a type of real-life CGI, the traveling acts are crude magic lanterns -- they simply cannot compete.
So when the group of ladies dressed as bees ascended into the heights we were left waiting for something - only for them to slowly make their way down to the floor. But the two motorcyclists racing around in a ball changed the drowsy atmosphere into one of suspended breathing and little gulps. It is shuddering to think what might happen to these brave young men if something did go wrong. There is no margin for error in this act.
The intermission featured elephant rides, an opportunity to be photographed with a boa-constrictor and a Shetland pony ride in which - you guessed it - the equines went round, and round, and round. Shetland ponies are known for their ill-temper, but these particular individuals seemed to be in a sleepy stupor. The same might be said of the snake -- who looked fearsome enough as he was draped over brave families - but who on closer inspection was shown to have his mouth shut tight by a miniature muzzle.
After the intermission there were more animals, more acrobatics, more clown acts of dubious quality. But at the end came a tight-rope act - the Meza Troupe -- that was exhilarating, electrifying and disturbing. Standing on the floor of the arena, I noticed a young man quietly standing a few feet away - nervous, with eyes closed and eventually crossing himself. He walked unsteadily up the wire, nearly falling when at a safe height. When high above the arena, he actually lost his footing, saving himself by wrapping a knee round the wire. He then continued with the act. He even stood on his head on the wire. If his physical uncertainty was part of a well-rehearsed show then he is the Olivier of tightrope walkers. From his expression as he descended the ladder at the end it was clear that he had, in fact, nearly fallen.
As a species we find watching others risking death strangely life-affirming. The Circus Gatti achieved this end with room to spare. We just had to wait two-and-a-half hours to get there
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