THEATER REVIEW
“Toruk: The First Flight”
Grade: C-
7:30 p.m. June 16-17; 4 and 8 p.m. June 18; 1:30 and 5:30 p.m. June 19. Through June 19. $34.50-$125. Cirque du Soleil at Infinite Energy Arena, 6400 Sugarloaf Parkway, Duluth. 770-626-2464, cirquedusoleil.com/toruk.
Bottom line: Seriously, Cirque?
So here we are on the edge of our seats watching two human-shaped creatures in skintight blue wage an epic battle of survival in a faraway place called Pandora.
Before the evening is up, these two courageous and nimble youths, and what seems like a cast of thousands, will endure earthquakes and fire, go on a quest for a handful of sacred objects to save their people, get chased by an angry pack of “viperwolves,” catch a ride on a giant winged creature known as a Toruk and see their world almost destroyed.
Inspired by James Cameron’s 2009 film, “Avatar,” the multimedia sci-fi spectacle at Infinite Energy Arena in Duluth through Sunday is the creation of Montreal-based Cirque du Soleil, a circus troupe known for its acrobatics, lavish costumes and raucous slapstick.
Reminiscent of the work of special-effects pioneer Ray Harryhausen, with bits of "Mad Max" and "Blade Runner," too, "Toruk — The First Flight" is a fascinating visual adventure with cinematic sweep but little of the physical intimacy, or the humor, that one normally finds under Cirque's blue-and-yellow big top.
Billed as a prequel to "Avatar," "Toruk" — narrated by an English-speaking Storyteller who speaks in a grave and pompous tone (Raymond O'Neill) — occurs 3,000 years before the time of the film.
As written and directed by Michel Lemieux and Victor Pilon, it depicts the primordial, diorama-like landscape before the humans arrive in Cameron’s film, which invented a language called “Na’vi” for the Pandora dwellers to speak.
Because the tongue was made up, it requires the Storyteller to interpret for us, a pretentious conceit that only distances us from the convoluted narrative, in which the peeps of Pandora catapult from their cavernous “home tree” to floating mountains, seas, rivers and islands.
There’s a lot going on on that stage.
With 40 video projectors, the show harnesses sophisticated technology to tattoo the enormous arena with flora and fauna, volcanic spews and gushing waterfalls while the courageous Ralu (Gabriel Christo) and Entu (Guillaume Paquin), plus their new-found female friend Tsyal (Giulia Piolanti), cavort from one end of their fictional moon to another.
Trotting out fantastical puppets, enormous kites, a shaman-singer and all manner of acrobatic energy, the show is often pretty and visually hypnotic. No doubt about it, these are some serious athletes and aerial artists. It’s just hard to engage with a story so overweeningly serious, obtuse and geeky.
Though I’ve rarely attended a Cirque opening night that started on time, this one did, even as people were still lined up outside trying to get through the arena doors, then making their way to their seats in the dark. Rude.
But really, why hurry?
Even after repeatedly dredging through a clunky, 20-page digital press kit and having a 10-minute telephone conversation with the show’s press agent to talk about how this arena-style Cirque is different from the tent versions (no kidding!), I’m still not sure I have the patience or wit to explicate it.
No big whoop. Unless you are a lover of fanciful Tolkien-like worlds or a technology nerd, not that there’s nothing wrong with either, you might not give a flip.
“Toruk” is subpar “Cirque,” good for a few transcendent moments and an Instagram moment or two. There’s even an interactive app, which audiences can download and use during the show. Sure, go ahead. Do it. Can’t hurt.
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