Zarkana is the latest production in Cirque du Soleil’s wildly-popular global franchise which combines extraordinary acrobatic feats with live original music and the art of dance.
Playing two shows nightly Thursday-Monday at the Aria in Las Vegas, ticket prices range from $81 to $176, with regular discounts given for locals (just show a Nevada driver’s license for a 25 percent discount). Marieta and I saw last Friday night’s show, which was two days after Christmas.
The auditorium is aptly named the Zarkana Theater and is magnificent, with plush comfortable seating. There isn’t a bad seat in the house. Moreover, the newly-designed theater is easily accessible from parking and exits, a rarity for high-dollar shows on the Las Vegas Strip. Everywhere else it’s like the primary objective is to pull patrons inside the casino and then make it as confusing as possible to get out. Like they want you to gamble, or something. But I digress.
Having seen six Cirque du Soleil performances to this point, one can appreciate the inherent challenges of trying to make each new show as fresh and original as the early predecessors. Trouble is, the bar of excellence was set so high by shows like O, that it’s become nearly impossible to match. Hence, disappointment might very well be inevitable.
Indeed, given there are now so many different Cirque du Soleil shows out there, they’re no longer guaranteed sure-fire spectacle for the senses that take our breath away. It’s more like hit and miss. From the great (O and Cavaglia) to the awful (Ka and Elvis), the rest of the catalog falls somewhere in the middle.
And that’s precisely where Zarkana ends up, albeit somewhere near the bottom half of the Cirque experience.
Among the disappointments that hold back the entire production are an ordinary stage and the absence of a “wow” factor. With a few exceptions which I’ll get to in a moment, the acrobatic feats just aren’t that interesting.
There’s also the clowns. Does anyone else find clowns more annoying than funny? This wouldn’t be an issue for Zarkana except that the clowns serve as constant interludes between the setups. So, they’re onstage about a third of the show. Sorry, but flatulence jokes performed by waddling white-faced posers just don’t cut it when you’re sitting in seats that cost $120.
However, two segments stand out for originality and awe. The first is what I’ll call the sand woman. Not an acrobat like the rest of the cast, she rises to the stage positioned behind a glass table which is about the size of an ordinary desk. A camera is mounted directly underneath. A huge projection screen shows the audience what’s happening on the tabletop as the woman spreads out sand. For the next ten minutes, she creates an astonishing array of different scenes. One might assume it would take hours to create these very detailed images, but with just a few brush strokes and finger movements, the sand woman mesmerizes the audience with a visual cavalcade that changes every few seconds. It’s wonderful.
The other highlight is a solitary male performer who takes a position on a white circle and performs a number of remarkably difficult maneuvers. Things like a one-armed handstand. Or, his legs arched impossibly behind his back as he spins wildly in circles to the accompaniment of dueling pianos. Something that has to be seen to be believed. You’ll never look at Pilates the same way after watching this incredible performer.
Unfortunately, those are the highlights. Most of the 90-minute show is stuff we saw in other Cirque performances. The rest is so underwhelming that it’s apparent the show’s creators simply ran out of new ideas. Unless your idea of great entertainment is watching jugglers or dancers tossing flags in unison set to music, at least half the show is a bore. Like watching a Chinese military band.
However, one thing about Zarkana really stands out — and that’s the music. Like all Cirque shows, all the original music produced especially for the show is performed live, often while the singers are dancing (lip-synching Britney Spears, please take note). It’s more of a rock opera, in the style of Andrew Lloyd Weber (think of his Evita period). Led by a magnificent tenor who’s our guide throughout the show, the tight-knit group of musicians includes lots of guitar-infused riffs and piano arias which provides one of the better compositions in the entire gambit of Cirque shows. In fact, this might be the best musical accompaniment of all.
But two strong ten-minute segments and a great musical score isn’t quite enough to save a show that drags hopelessly and takes no risks. There’s not even a climax to the performance. It just ends — abruptly.
So, the summary is as follows: The story, if you can call it that, is dis-joined. The clowns aren’t funny. The stage is dull. And most of the act is a rehash of what we’ve already seen elsewhere. It’s sort of like eating last night’s leftovers.
Pass on Zarkana.