Putting ‘fun’ back in funeral — mostly
Corteo (out of 4) Written and directed by Daniele Finzi Pasca. Until Dec. 16 at the Scotiabank Arena, 40 Bay Street. CirqueduSoleil.com.
Cirque du Soleil’s 2005 surreal combination of a Baroque painting, a carnival, and the sensation of your life flashing before your eyes, Corteo was resurrected this year for an international arena tour, after a successful ten-year run of its Big Top version from 2005 to 2015. And it arrives in Toronto for a limited nine-performance run at an optimal time, as Torontonians are finding circus to be a new holiday tradition. And this one in particular has the romantic, warm nostalgia of A
Christmas Carol, the kind that fills you up with warm fuzzies before heading back out into the cold.
That said, Corteo — written and directed by Daniele Finzi Pasca — is sometimes more inscrutable than one might desire from an evening of contemporary circus, favouring conceptual images over a coherent sto- ryline. Sometimes those are enough on their own but dreams are difficult to remember for a reason. Without a story, it’s harder to get a firm grip on the show, and circus of all things has taught us how important a firm grip is.
Corteo acts out the dream of a clown named Mauro, who imagines witnessing his own funeral surrounded by a troupe of his fellow circus performers, consisting of a crew of more traditional figures from the big top. Angels are a new addition to Mauro’s acquaintances, but as they welcome him to their suspended world above the action below, he finds truly heartwarming scenes. Of all the clowning moments in this production that seeks to highlight these characters, Mauro’s moments of dreamlike eccentricity are the most memorable; others, like a side trip to Scotland for a round of golf, feel like a literal and thematic departure.
Story and circus find their best pairing in a trampoline act that places the elastic material in the form of two vintage beds, and the performers in the roles of unruly children resisting their bedtime. The joy of the performers and characters is infectious, especially coming up after the opening chandelier act.
The antique colours and designs in Jean Rabasse’s set, Dominique Lemieux’s costumes, and the klezmer-inspired music of Jean-Francois Côté, Philippe Leduc and Maria Bonzanigo are a welcome counter to the last Cirque production Toronto saw, the overly complicated and alienatingly machine-like Volta. But Corteo is also traditional in a more troubling sense — its casting of little performers as Clowness and the Little Clown feel uncomfortably tokenistic.
The Little Clown is used rarely, and in a largely unsuccessful gag in a failed production of Ro- meo and Juliet. The Clowness (not a child, but a dwarf or little person) is involved in the act that is the production’s biggest selling feature and the one that will get audiences talking — suspended by three large balloons, the Clowness floats from the stage into the audience, which pushes her back into Mauro’s arms. It’s a spectacular act, and she is absolutely charming, but there’s a fear for her safety as crowds reach eagerly to get the chance to touch her feet.
Corteo has moments of absolute beauty, to be sure, but we’re looking forward to returning to the Big Top in the summer.