Theatre Review: Iris

Friends have shared positive feedback about Cirque de Soleil and insist that Iris’--currently the in-house continuing project in the space formerly known as the Kodak Theatre--is nothing close to its amazingness.  If that is the case, then, Iris is a great place to start.  There is a cute pre-show with an assortment of characters dressed in quirky and stylish getups that exaggerate features and clothing that feels quite like early 20^th Century French vaudeville filtered through the Looking Glass. 

As you can expect with any Cirque show, the feats are mind-boggling.  Synchronized trapeze unfolds wowing the audience from above, when their jaws aren’t dropping from the contortionist act that turns into a house of cards.  Tumblers cross the stage in a rooftop sequence that manages to manipulate time by moving backwards and forwards with mere bounces set to the music of Danny Elfman.  The set decoration is quite lovely, especially during a fun bit flattening the proscenium with a dark scrim that reveals various levels and activity in an apartment building.  As the theme is film, there is play between light and shadows, as well as live feeds projected on various screens around and within the stage. 

There is a homoerotic strap act between two male trapeze artists that is quite family-friendly, but raging with sexual subtext.  It’s the most poetic and effortless act of the entire show.  The duo was actually incorporated into this year’s Academy Award ceremony during an homage to Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest where the two gentlemen were dressed as Cary Grant.  The iconic simple beauty their moment provided during the Oscars was often missing from the production of Iris.  Rather than rely on a pastiche of homage trusting the audience’s movie knowledge to relate and/or appreciate various nods to film history, the production squishes its magical elements and truly amazing series of never ending stunts into a cumbersome narrative. 

Iris’ main challenge is the same problem faced by the industry it showcases, which is ironically performed in the very venue that self-congratulates itself every year around February.  By imposing an contrived story on beautiful visuals in order to make the production easier to digest for audiences, it comprises the integrity and beauty of the work.  While stunning puts the efforts of this production mildly, there are perhaps greater Cirque pastures to explore.  Yet, if you can get passed the innocuous narrative antics, you could find worse ways of spending an afternoon.