Love - The Cirque Show by the Beatles
Originally uploaded by minjungkim.
GOD FRICKING BLESS AMERICA.
And GOD BLESS ENGLAND.
AND LOVE. ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE
I haven’t had a chance to followup to my last video & text post re: my vegas trip but just to catch you up, I’ve finally recovered but still in awe of my experience. But unlike finding pubic hairs in a bar of soap, awed in a good way.
The morning after my Mirage debacle I found my way (after sleeping in) at the media center of the Mirage. After comically and calmly relaying my experience of the night before (lost reservations, the fricking cpk, pubic hairs, etc) I was kindly and graciously upgraded to a suite on the penthouse floor of the Mirage. Nice. A private lobby with a brilliant view, quiet, and the ability to enjoy a cigarette in quiet as I attempted to do some work.
I didn’t do much that day besides do some work, eat far more than I should of at the buffet, and try to make the rounds from within the hotel. I only realized after I left on Wednday morning that I hadn’t ever technically left the building. Funny thing about vegas that way. That’s ok. I fear that if I had left the building I would have spontaneously combusted anyway.
A & I met up with some of his friends for quick cocktails before heading ovwer the toe Beatles Show. I wasn’t too sure what to expect but I was trying to be reasonably open minded.
Now I won’t say that I’m the biggest beatles fan, but I’m wildy appreciative of energetic, guileless charm and lyrics. So yeah, I dig. I mean, “I want to hold your hand” is so marvelously innocent compared to “I’m going to get you love drunk off my hump”. Ok, maybe that’s just me. I’m old school and pretty vanilla after all.
I was stunned when I first stepped into the theatre. As per pre-release notes, the theater is a 360 extravaganza holding over 2000 seats. What people may not know stepping in is that for every seat there are 3 speakers exquisitly positioned for an impeccable sound experience.
Now, while there may not be any *bad* seats in the entire theater, I am of the firm belief that there are sitll some that are better than others. I had the best. Section 209. Row 0, for your reference. FRICKING DOPE.
The show opened with pirate-esque people climbing up ropes, a Srgnt. Peppper bandleader, visuals of bombers in B&W with explosion sounds, children running about in pure charm that we (us gauche americans) can only recognize as narnia’esque and dream mothers floating through the air. And then half of the set exploaded. Literally. As parts of the stage in sections rose and fell.
And then the beeping.
{beep}{beep}{beep}
The performmance came to a halt.
An alert message in the most monotone voice which serves to be the most disquieting experience to have when you know you have to climb over at least 800 people to the nearest exist.
{beep}{beep}{beep}
Blinking lights and a blaring alert message in repition. I turned to my friend sitting next to me.
{beep}{beep}{beep}
” Are those hippy canadian circus freaks fucking with us?”
His response
{beep}{beep}{beep}
“I dunno.”
{beep} {beep} {beep}
“Shit. I think this is real.”
{beep}{beep}{beep}
“So what do you think? The terrorists hate america and the beatles so much that…”
{beep} {beep}{beep}
“Fuck you.”
And then section 211 started the wave. THE WAVE.
Yes, my friends. This is how we know the terrorists will never win.
I gotta admit. For me, my concern was that the momentum and energy of the show would be totally decimated by that awkward disruption (that proved to be real and swiftly enough resolved).
I had *nothing* to worry about.
The rest of the show, well…
Let’s just say that I may have experienced my first asphyxia triggered orgasm, because, oh.my.lord, I was gasping for breath during the entire show.
Pure: PURE: Beatles sound and visuals, technical excellence, and remarkably impressive light and stage engineering had me gasping during the entire show. The performance, the costumes, the execution. Wow. My mouth was agape.
Unlike other Cirque performances this show had no live vocals or custom music associated with the performance. Instead, the performers and themes were the purest visual and synesthetic joy and energy in interpretation and spirit that anyone could experience for each and every Beatles song and bit that was performed.
From the blown bubbles to wild anemone style trapeze artists to rollerblading fuzzy boot maniacs to hippy protesters on trampelines to brilliant light engineering that swept you up to the sky and then plunged you to the most intoxicating visions of the sea, I was amazed.
It was, in one word, AMAZING. Another word, FANTASMAGORIC
And utterly imbued with the spirit, the charm, the humor, the diversity, and the timelessness that we all know and attribute to those moppy head boys that we all know and love.
Ok, Mirage, you get dissed for the pubic hair soaps, but you done well fucking right by John, Paul, George, and Ringo.
Seriously. If by any chance you make it anywhere within a 500 mile radius of vegas, go hit the show.
You will feel your skin spark with shiny exclamation points for days on end afterwards.
(All photo creds go to the Mirage & Cirque Peeps other than the Pink one on top.. That’s mine.)
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