STAGE REVIEW : Otherworldly Delights

The creators of “Saltimbanco,” the latest extravaganza from Le Cirque du Soleil, contend that their theme this year is “urbanity,” as in “city life.”

“We tried to take a good look at society as it is now,” wrote “director of creation” Gilles Ste-Croix in the program notes. Oh, oh . . . a “post-riot” Cirque, perhaps?

Forget all that. “Saltimbanco” is the most fanciful production that Le Cirque has brought to Los Angeles. If this is a picture of “society as it is now,” let’s all move to the Cirque’s home in Montreal.

Maybe that “society as it is now” claim stems from the fact that the level of audience involvement has increased. More than in the past, audience members are coaxed/coerced into the action before the show proper even begins. On opening night, one woman was carried to the other side of the tent by a set of goofy-looking clowns. One man was stripped to the waist.

Clown Rene Bazinet’s solos depend heavily on audience response. Clad in a baseball cap, bow tie and baggy shorts, with a buck-toothed grin, the supple Bazinet pitches imaginary baseballs at spotlighted audience members, who respond by “throwing” them back.

Later, he recruits a spectator for an extended set of let’s-pretend mime on center stage, accompanied by peerless sound effects. Up close, this was a fascinating evocation of theater’s roots in simple play. But friends who were seated farther back said there were problems seeing this act, and one wonders what would happen if Bazinet chose the wrong man.

Leaving aside the audience participation, however, the Cirque performers themselves look and act like creatures from another planet. Unlike previous Cirque shows, none of them is dressed as a mere mortal at the beginning, only to become transformed upon entering a magical world. Other than an obligatory thank-you to the corporate sponsors, this is a fantasy from the get-go.

True, we see a sleeping man (Guennadi Tchijov) enter a dream world. But he’s no Joe Six-Pack, dozing off in front of the TV set. This guy has a blue tail even before his “dream” begins.

Director Franco Dragone, composer Rene Dupere, choreographer Debra Brown and the designers (costumes Dominique Lemieux, sets Michael Crete, lights Luc Lafortune, sound Jonathan Deans) cradle us completely in their imaginary world. Even the most marginal member of the troupe maintains the illusion at every moment.

Among the featured “dreams,” first up is a Russian Dad (Nikolai Tchelnokov), Mom (Galina Karableva) and little boy (7-year-old Anton Tchelnokov). Dressed as if for “Star Trek,” these three twist themselves around each other in a breathtaking display of strength and flexibility that ends in an embrace that’s touching in more ways than one. The family that contorts together, stays together.

Next, a team of 15 acrobats in brilliantly striped body suits cavort around and among four tall poles. They climb up in a “look, Ma, no legs” style and then descend head first, stopping just in time to avoid brain damage.

The rest of the first act isn’t quite as eye-boggling. The cable around tightrope walker Jingmin Wang’s waist may make everyone breathe easier, but should that be the goal at a circus? Juggler Miguel Herrera, though much more than adept, dropped the ball a few too many times.

Ann Bernard and Helene Lemay whip up an impressive frenzy with their “boleadoras” act, involving twirling ropes, flamenco steps and furious drumming by Francois Beausoleil, but the act doesn’t look as superhuman as most.

After intermission, 15 acrobats take turns leaping off a giant swing into a net. But that’s just the warm-up for the trapeze act of identical twins Karyne and Sarah Steben. It’s not just their gymnastic prowess that astonishes; it’s also their uncanny resemblance, which extends beyond looks to what appears to be a remarkable blend of two souls in one, as if they used to be Siamese twins.

This theme continues with the hand-to-hand balancing act of two brothers, Paulo and Marco Lorador. This looks more excruciatingly difficult than anything else in the show, but these guys’ muscles could apparently move mountains.

Finally, a bungee-derived act launches four angels into graceful flights around the Big Top, accompanied by astral-sounding soprano Francine Poitras. Incidentally, don’t bother trying to decipher the lyrics in this first Cirque show with singing; most of them are made-up words, befitting a made-up world.

“Saltimbanco,” Cirque du Soleil, Santa Monica Pier. Tuesdays-Thursdays, 8 p.m.; Fridays, 6 and 9:30 p.m.; Saturdays, 4:30 and 8:30 p.m.; Sundays, 1 p.m. and 5 p.m. Ends Nov. 15. $12.50-35.50. (310) 393-6811. Running time: 3 hours.