Phillyist Goes to the Circus

Much to some of our more animal activist-y readers' dismay, this Phillyist braved the threat of snow and went to see the Greatest Show on Earth. And while this Phillyist made sure to tell her young daughter that there was a good possibility that the elephants we were going to see were sad, and read all the protesters' signs out loud and nodded at them solemnly as we drove through their picket line of two, I just have to say...

It was awesome.

Putting aside a couple of sound problems and one light that would occasionally hit me square in the face, the Ringling Brothers Circus is a tight, well-run show that is a lot of fun to see. Ringling Brothers does the smart thing—they don't try to be anything other than the bright spectacle of sequins and pyrotechnics they are supposed to be. Rumor had it that last year they were trying to skew a little more highbrow and "arty," but that's not the case on the Funundrum tour. RBB&B puts what we love in the spotlight: namely, they are bringing the sideshow front and center and paying tribute to P.T. Barnum. There's a strong man who lifts half-ton in fellow circus performers, fantastic high-wire walkers, and tiger tamer, all accompanied by nostalgic images from the when Barnum was hocking his devil baby in a jar.

As an adult, I could have done without the clowns, but not for the same reason I can do without Cirque du Soleil's clowns. I'm not scared of Ringling Brothers' clowns; they are mostly delightful. They are not, however, super interesting. They seemed to be the weak link in an exceptionally strong chain of entertainment. The plot of the antics seemed a little too involved, the costumes a little too normal, and there were far too few pies in faces. I am, however, in my late twenties, and perhaps not the best judge of clown character.

There was a moment, though, when I felt about 7 years old. The stadium was dark, nothing was moving on the floor, and then from seemingly out of nowhere, a giant train of light and people burst forth from an unseen tunnel. The ringmaster was at the helm with his rhinestone-encrusted jacket and tall matching hat, mermaids floated on bubble-laced sea scenes, and alpacas trotted alongside spangled painted ladies. There were Chinese dragons and tumbling acrobats. I watched, as did my daughter on my lap, and her eyes went wide. She stared with a wonder and an amazement that can only come from seeing such an incredible display live and in person. The circus isn't perfect, it's probably not going to make you think or reevaluate any lifelong choices, but that's not what the circus is for. This circus has been, and should always be, an escape into a larger-than-life fantasy where everyone is a child and we can all share that wonder and excitement.

I don't care what anyone says. I love the circus.