Hoop, hoop, hooray! Jenny Vidbel gives a pup something to jump for. (Bertrand Guay/Big Apple Circus)
With a title like “Legendarium,” you’d think the Big Apple Circus’ new show would bring on horses rigged out to look like unicorns, or at least tumbling jesters re-enacting Grimm tales.
But no, “Legendarium” sticks close to the company’s New York home. We won’t complain: Maybe it’s the lack of a far-fetched high concept, or the absence of Barry Lubin’s Grandma — an Apple institution — but “Legendarium” is the troupe’s best production in years.
A jolly new ringmaster, John Kennedy Kane, starts things off by announcing the show is going “back to the origins of the big top,” more specifically, 19th-century New York.
Broadway vet John Lee Beatty’s set harks back to classic Gotham, and Mirena Rada’s costumes are brightly stylish twists on yesteryear fashion. With his top hat, jaunty paunch and furry mutton-chops, Kane looks as if he’s just stepped out of a Tammany Hall tavern.
For the rest, the Big Apple wisely sticks with the classics. The new comic relief, a husband-and-wife team called Acrobuffos, wear masks inspired by centuries-old commedia dell’arte. And Jenny Vidbel’s animal acts remain proudly old-school.
My junior consultants — 8-year-old Lila and 10-year-old Ava — enjoyed the “Central Park Dogs” best. This group of motley mutts gets up to all kinds of shenanigans, and could teach that Sandy fella from “Annie” a thing or two. Word to the wise: If you’re sitting close to the action, keep your hands on your snacks.
Galloping horses and mischievous canines aside, “Legendarium” is chiefly about human feats of grace, balance, strength — and the ability to turn bones to rubber.
That last exploit comes from contortionist Elayne Kramer, who draws gasps of awe — and possibly horror — as she bends her body in ways no body was meant to bend.
The most impressive acts are equal parts power and grace. The pirouettes and upside-down tricks China’s Zhang Fan does on a slack wire would be tough enough in a regular floor routine. His compatriots in the Dalian troupe form human pyramids — on bicycles!
But the show’s biggest treat is Daniel Cyr, who does amazingly graceful gyrations inside a heavy metal hoop, an act he pioneered a decade ago. Watching him is like watching Les Paul play the electric guitar that bears his name.
Unlike most circus performers, Cyr doesn’t build up to a ka-pow! finale, but to zen-like serenity. Its soothing charm may not be apparent to the small-fry in the crowd, but the grown-ups with them should appreciate it.