The Beatles LOVE, the new main stage show at The Mirage, combines the music of The Beatles with the formidable Cirque du Soleil creative team. Blessings were bestowed upon the project from former members of the Fab Four and the heirs of John Lennon and George Harrison, and the musical direction is by Sir George Martin (sometimes dubbed "the fifth Beatle") and his son, Giles. Additionally, Cirque du Soleil brings its own magic. The show is a marriage of musical giants and theatrical superstars. It should have worked.
According to Theater and Set Designer Jean Rabasse, the primary creative hurdle was the musical material itself: "Working with the legacy of The Beatles makes designing the show like playing with the crown jewels." However, as any jeweler knows, the most hazardous moment of a gemstone's life is when it is removed from its original mounting and reset into a new piece of jewelry.
In resetting the music, the Martins made a conscious attempt to avoid the "greatest hits" syndrome and created a special soundscape for the show using little-known Beatles material and some song fragments. The song selections, with few exceptions, were chosen from the dreamy, drippy, sappy portion of The Beatles catalog—the ones you skip over when playing the CD in the car. The result is a soundtrack that often loses the fact that The Beatles were a terrific rock band. That coupled with the over-trebled surround-sound system made for an unsatisfying audio experience—six speakers in every seat notwithstanding.
Other technical teams are a marvel, though. The set, lighting and video-projection teams have produced some spectacular effects, especially considering the challenges of the 360-degree performance space. Because the show is produced in the round, a design decision was made to allow the workings of the set pieces to appear transparent at times, becoming a part of the general scene. Combined with the lighting techniques designed by Yves Aucoin, the 90-minute show moves steadily forward without discernible breaks in the action.
The lighting design allows the large set pieces to be moved without plunging the audience into complete static darkness. Aucoin's goal was "to focus the spectators' attention on one highlight or one artist." He succeeds, especially in "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," where twinkling LED strips simulate stars, and in "Octopus's Garden," where glowing wind socks maintain the flow of the action while distracting the audience from the changing scenery.
The marvel of the show, however, is the innovative work by the video-projection team. Led by designer Francis Laporte, they use the latest in digital technology to reinterpret the look and feel of 1960s graphic techniques. Up to eight layers of media are mixed and projected on two 103-foot-by-20-foot screens and various smaller units. Each of the two giant screens is serviced by a 5x1 projection system that allows the images to overlap, creating one continuous visual plane. The projections, from historical footage to a chorus line of dancing rain boots, enhance the stage action and add depth to the production. Four of the 28 video projectors are moved by a special motorized robotic yoke—the first to be used in the country—which moves the actual projector (not merely the beam) and allows for a high degree of accuracy in pinpointing the location of the image, adding multiple layers of visual interest to the stage.
Ultimately, the impressive technical accomplishments are not enough to save the flawed show. The reheated Commedia Dell'Arte aesthetic, which has worked so well for Cirque du Soleil in the past, is miscast in this journey through The Beatles' British universe. Oddly absent in LOVE are the astonishing human accomplishments—always the strong point of Cirque productions. "Back in the USSR," with its political message punctuated by terrific trampoline work, provides the only WOW moment. As earnest and appealing as the performers are, nothing that any of the LOVE crew did approached the dynamic efforts seen in Mystere and O. The aerial work and tumbling were perfunctory at best, and the inline skating performers will not keep Chad Hedrick awake at night. The absence of the exciting circus-type acts would be understandable if some form of physical thrill had been substituted for the missing acrobatic feats. However, the existing choreography is merely a form of organized walking, punctuated by rudimentary Stomp-like moves—very much Movement for Actors 101 meets Contact Improv. Perhaps Cirque is starting to get into the shallow end of the circus and gymnastic talent pool from which it has drawn in the past?