What happens when you take an acclaimed illusionist, wrap him up in a Cirque du Soleil production, and put the whole shebang on a Vegas stage? A lesson in the value of reading reviews before watching your money suffer an irrevocable disappearing act. Of course, as a critic I prefer to approach a play, a movie, a production, without the prejudice of other reviews. It doesn’t usually make a difference what other critics think, but there’s something to be said for the tabula rasa approach. Yet, by Houdini, had I possessed an inkling of the calamity that is Believe – on stage at the Luxor – I would have certainly gone to any one of the other Vegas shows.
Despite a few inauspicious signs – a starbucks barista gloomily warned that Believe was nothing like Angels’ TV show Mindfreak – my wife and I remained optimistic. After all, it’s Criss Angel and the never-say-fail Cirque du Soleil – together! But when the show begins with clips from Mindfreak followed by an endless bout of self-adulating narcissism, the electric anticipation of a magical performance was replaced by the frustrated wait for something, anything, impressive to happen. So much for optimism.
It would be all too easy to write up a catalog of errors and disappointments. But let’s leave it at this: Would you be impressed if a mannequin, assembled from various parts, were placed into a giant contraption and brought to life as Criss Angel? Sure…unless the switch happens behind a screen of smoke that lasts 5-10 seconds. Similarly, would doves plucked out of thin air prove amusing, if not gobsmacking? Sure…unless Angel is wearing a coat so big he could fit a humpback whale in it. This is the real mystery, rooted in easily seen trapped doors, obvious wire work, barely concealed switches and body double tricks – how can anyone, let alone a professional illusionist, be satisfied with what Angel offers? By what standards was this show put together?
The cynical explanation invokes P.T. Barnum. Believe may be just a ploy to cash in on the brand value of Criss Angel and Cirque du Soleil to foist merchandise on customers. A good con, however, disappears after taking a mark to the cleaners; he doesn’t stick around for word-of-mouth to get around and spoil his ability to dupe others. With Believe committed to a 10-year run, however, it makes no sense for the show to simply intend to part people from their money. Surely delivering a quality show would minimize the risk – from bad word-of-mouth and critical reviews – to a consistent source of audiences and, by extension, higher ticket prices and steadier revenue.
Maybe it’s just that Criss Angel has a monumental ego and is either incapable or unwilling to see just how truly condescending his performance and show are? Is he really that disconnected from audiences that he couldn’t detect the audience mood dropping below freezing? The mind, it boggles…but an overdeveloped ego is certainly a plausible explanation given his various personal confessions.
Also baffling is the Cirque du Soleil dimension, which is very weak compared to the troupe’s usual excellence. While the costumes and clowns are seasoned with the lush surrealism of a Cirque performance, very little of the performance spirit is there. Other than an aerial ballet of sorts, there are no acrobatics or feats of physical prowess – only dancing rabbits and dolls. Boring. The only truly startling bit of imagination, a rabbit head that walks around on its ears, is underutilized. Throw in narrative incoherence, thematic confusion, juvenile humour, and the propensity for Angel to break apart the immersive illusion of the Cirque dreamworld by popping on stage in his jeans and bandana, and one has to wonder how it could all go so wrong. Perhaps Believe is a symptom that Cirque du Soleil, with about a zillion different shows in Vegas alone, is suffering from brand oversaturation. Whatever the explanation, Believe is neither an interesting failure whose shortcomings can fuel an entertaining post-mortem nor a piece of camp that rates as guilty pleasure. It’s an insult to audiences grown sophisticated from the high-level of performance by other acts like veteran stage magician Lance Burton. As harsh as it may sound, the only disappearing act that would make any impression is making this show vanish from the entertainment landscape, as many Vegas columnists have called for.
Frédérik invites you to discuss “Believe” and more at his blog, www.inkandashes.net.