It’s curious that the touring production of Cirque du Soleil’s “Kurios: Cabinet of Curiosities,” goes through a bevy of literal and symbolic contortions trying to tie their show together as something more than it already is: amazing.
The flights of fancy you expect to see at a Cirque du Soleil show generally don’t need to be grounded in any sort of rationality or reality. Disbelief is quickly suspended while costumed folks zoom across the sky. That ability to crack even the most-cynical hearts in the audience has been a hallmark of the Montreal-based company’s decades of producing wonderment.
“Kurios” didn’t appear to have any tightrope walkers in its sizable cast of acting acrobats, but it does walk a fine line between simply being a straightforward showcase of performers and a truly coherent story on and above the stage. Yes, Virginia, there is a narrative from start to finish, but following it — much less deriving anything terribly substantive from it — is about as elusive and practical as catching Santa Claus putting gifts under the tree.
Tying those loose yet limber ends of “Kurios” together is a story centered on a Harry Potter-lookalike scientist, dubbed “the Seeker,” whose Victorian-era steampunk machine has unlocked a journey through a series of magical, gravity-defying acts.
And what acts they are. Our entry into this world, a collection of drummers, jugglers and dancers, brings nearly the entire cast on stage. At least five separate mini-acts develop as they rhythmically unload from a train, outfitted with checkered and striped suits and dresses of garish, sepia-soaked oranges, browns and greens.
Some seemingly pivotal characters soon set themselves apart. The big-bellied Mr. Microcosmos (Karl L’Ecuyer) carries within his copper-toned potbelly the diminutive Mini Lili (played by Antanina Satsura, who stands just over 3 feet tall), both of whom usher the Seeker and the rest of the group through the marvels ahead. The metallic-hoop-skirted Klara and accordion-bodied Nico both echo elements of early 20th century Bauhaus style while exuding a Roaring Twenties exuberance mixed against the pseudo-Victorian, industrial backdrop.
But following these strings of story is entirely too much work when they are both slight and subtle. It’s even less meaningful up against the spectacle of each subsequent act, all of them trotted out like any traveling circus show might. Situated under Cirque’s signature blue-and-gold tent, it’s all the more rewarding to dispense with the mystical pretense of the show and embrace the natural feeling that “Kurios” is a traditional circus that’s ditched the animal acts in exchange for exceptional production value.
In fact, one of the show’s strongest assets is an invisible animal act built squarely on the pantomime skills of the “Kurios” ringmaster, who later takes it upon himself to mimic the animals himself. After pulling an audience member on stage, he presents one of the most comically realistic performances of a cat you’ll see this side of Mr. Mistoffelees.
As intimate as the Cirque tent is, it’s easy to feel drawn into the act rather than passively trying to interpret its thematics. As a gold-suited female acrobat maneuvers an aerial bicycle, the coziness is amplified by the shadows of her kinetic performance projected onto the big top itself. The show is close enough to touch, and in one clever sequence of finger puppetry, it’s close enough to touch back.
Even traditional acts, such as the Russian cradle human-trapeze act, enjoy an air of freshness by virtue of the audience’s proximity to the duo’s increasingly intricate somersaults.
If you can live without much structure and turn yourself over to the kinetic pageantry of “Kurios,” you will leave the Cirque tent largely satisfied.
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“Kurios: Cabinet of Curiosities”
Shows most days except Mondays through July 26 at the Pepsi Center Prius West Lot, Denver
Tickets range from $30 to $125.
1-877-924-7783 or www.cirquedusoleil.com