Put on the blinders and saddle up for Cirque de So-Lame. From the artistic mind of Normand Latourelle, creator of Cirque de Soleil, comes "Cavalia," a perplexing circus-like spectacle that blends passable acrobatics with melancholy horsemanship.
The show's premise is poignant in theory and inherently Cirque-esque; that is, it traces the evolution of man's relationship with his equine counterpart in 18 five-minute vignettes. Incorporating acrobats from around the world and 47 horses trained by husband-wife team Frederic Pignon and Magali Delgado, the show's advertising fanfare and $85 ticket price imply a dynamic and not-to-be-missed experience. However, the show itself is a poor attempt at combining these elements under the Big Top venue, and Cavalia loses its appeal as a result.
What could be worse than entering a theater to find stuffed animals and hobbyhorses littering the stage in garish disarray? This disappointing start was followed in the opening number by three puny horses, named Timeo, Indigo and Chocolate Chip, simply wandering around the stage while a stocky acrobat executes wobbly handstands with a mullet-clad French Canadian partner.
Subsequent episodes range from the tedious to the absurd. In one, Frederic Pignon, the "French horse-whisperer," spends a mind-numbing six minutes whispering in the ears of three white stallions, who, for the most part, ignore him. In another uncomfortably rakish scene, male riders flirt blatantly with the crowd as they recklessly charge their horses around the track for seven minutes.
The crown jewel of the first act, however, is a piece called "The Mirror," in which Magali Delgado and her look-alike (but not twin) sister Estelle parade about the stage on white stallions as Greek goddesses ... in an almost-but-not-quite-there mirror image of one another. For those who ever dreamt of being a maiden princess in flowing white linen on a white horse, this is effectively their 15 minutes of watching someone else do it.
The second act of "Cavalia" picks up significantly, but not enough to remedy the unforgivable damage done by the first. The most exquisite performance is the vignette entitled "Libertad," which, perhaps ironically, involves daring trapeze acts executed by 10 artists and absolutely no horses. "Trick Riding" is another worthwhile segment, incorporating all the pizzazz and chutzpah that one would have expected from the entire show.
Honestly, the most interesting part of the show was the audience, a unique blend of pre-pubescent female horse aficionados and over-the-hill trainers intermingled with Cirque fans and curious D.C. urbanites. The divergence of the audience is indeed nothing more than a manifestation of the curious confusion that plagues "Cavalia:" for whom was this show designed? Until someone answers this self-defining question, "Cavalia" will remain an entertainment conundrum.
To the show's credit, one can sense the underlying creative themes that inspire it, as well as the true love of horses that the performers exhibit. The flow of ideas and scenes moves gracefully, the live music is warm and soothing and the set design is exquisite. Indeed, the show has immense potential, but the execution of its development is severely lacking.
Cirque de Soleil fans should hold off and spend their $85 on the real thing when it arrives on tour. Horse lovers should spend their evening at an Arabian Nights show or even the International Horse Expo, which is in the District this week. These events promise equally if not more skillful riding and a much lower price tag. Fans of acrobatics and the danger of fast-moving animals should choose the $11 ticket to Barnum and Bailey when it swings through town.
