Review: ‘Amaluna’ showcases Cirque’s talent for making the impossible seem ordinary

There are two kinds of people who could be reading this review of Cirque du Soleil’s “Amaluna.” You’ve either seen a Cirque show or you have not.

It’s an important distinction because any review of any Cirque show is going to sound bizarre. Do you want to hear about the peacock costumes and the prankster dressed as an iguana? We’ll get to that, but let’s start at the beginning.

This reviewer has gone from feeling very skeptical of Cirque to an attendee of 10 shows. Some shows were duds. Traveling shows in big arenas like “Snow” in Madison Square Garden and “Crystal” at Golden 1 Center suffered because of the distance from the audience to the performers.

Venues matter to Cirque shows. Their shows in Las Vegas have permanent theaters and sound systems. They are all very good. But the traveling shows have mostly missed the mark.

Until “Amaluna.”

For the uninitiated, Cirque shows are a kaleidoscope of traditional circus acts served up with modern artistry and technical flair. You’ll see feats of strength and gymnastic prowess; often the two are combined. But the show starts before you even get to the venue.

The huge tents create a dreamlike atmosphere along the West Sacramento riverfront. At night, the bright-white-and-blue tents in the giant parking lot next to a baseball field are spotlit. The swirls of blue only add to the surreal scene.

Leave the blankets and warm winter clothing at home. The tent is heated and was quite warm on opening night.

You’ll want to get there on time to watch Sacramento native Kelsey Custard, who has a lead role as a clown. As is customary for Cirque shows, Custard starts the show in the audience with a rambunctious lizard. The lizard throws popcorn at audience members and licks their phones (you’ve been warned) if they try to take pictures. Custard is right behind the lizard, cleaning peoples’ phones apologetically.

When the show kicked off on opening night, there were oohs and a cry of “wow, look at that,” as the lights came up on a dozen or so performers and a live band. Yes, some of those performers are dressed in peacock-like costumes. With a drummer, a vocalist and a pair of guitarists, the tent will be rocking every night through its Feb. 23 close in West Sacramento.

Though the tent seats 2,600 people, according to a previous Bee report, it feels like at least half that number inside the big top.

That intimacy matters. At a large arena show, it’s difficult to appreciate a performer’s one-handed arm stand from 300 feet away. When that performer is 30 feet away, you can see their muscles quivering while they do the splits or any other number of creative feats.

With occasional interludes from Custard (and the lizard), audience members are treated to a rarity at a Cirque show: a plot. That term is used loosely as the plot is primarily an excuse to make some sense of what the performers are doing on stage.

As any Cirque veteran will tell you, it doesn’t need to make sense. In fact, nonsense is the point. Characters speak a gibberish language. The plot is relatively basic. None of that matters at a Cirque show.

Cirque shows, at their best, transform everybody in the audience into fascinated onlookers. We sit there spellbound, wondering “How did they do that?” We don’t see the hours and years of practice, the 100 people who lifted the tent up, or any of the technical wizardry. At Amaluna, everything melts away and it’s just 2,600 pairs of eyes and a performer doing something mind-boggling. That’s something you won’t find at every Cirque show.

If you go

Amaluna

Where: Sutter Health Park, (formerly Raley Field), West Sacramento

When: Daily shows through Feb. 23

Cost: $49 to $250

Tickets: www.cirquedusoleil.com/amaluna

This story was originally published January 30, 2020 at 4:00 AM.