Saltimbanco contorts and charms at the ACC

A crowd gathers inside the Air Canada Centre. People shuffle into their seats, chatting in anticipation or groaning at the $11 hot dog in their hands. It is a culmination of entertainment in the city. In a moment, however, the tarp covering the stage area in the centre floor sweeps away, revealing a psychedelic multicoloured tapestry. A live band weaves equally multicultural fare, and The Baron, his Jester and Court rush towards the spotlight with childish glee. The city has been transformed. Welcome to the world of Cirque du Soleil's Saltimbanco.The show's title is roughly translated from Italian "to jump on a bench," meaning to convey the theme of "an allegorical and acrobatic journey into the heart of the city." The casual viewer would never notice it, though, without any obvious city imagery in sight, titular bench included. That doesn't stop the show from taking one's breath away.

It is a show that demands the audience's full attention. Everything taking place on the centre stage is saturated in colour, melody and bliss. The costumed spectators who "merely" sit and watch the primary acrobats of a given act are a carefully constructed part of the spectacle as well, and even the musicians and singer are beautifully costumed, doubling as observers and hosts.

More than twenty performers take part in the Chinese Poles routine, leaping and swinging up, down, and between poles standing some thirty-odd feet high, in configurations that defy both logic and physics. The hand-to-hand duo bend and support each other in incredible displays of strength and endurance, with abdominals upon which one could grate parmesan. Both are staples of the Cirque, and versions are present in several of their shows such as MystŠre, but are never any less exciting to see.

Other acts blend the traditional with the unusual. Terry Velasquez juggles up to seven balls while walking down a set of stairs. The clowning, headed by the lively mime Amo Gulinello, delighted the crowd and involved a fair amount of audience interaction. Trapeze sisters Ruslana and Taisiia Bazalii's interlocking shins and feet become the only link between them, high above the noticeably net-less ground (many high-flyers are connected to lines as a less-intrusive safety precaution). Incredible twisting dives off a Russian swing trump anything you may have seen last this month in Beijing, and it's all done in a far less confrontational mood.

The arena format of the show removed some of the intimacy of Le Grand Chapiteau, the huge tent facility that houses most of the Cirque's touring shows, but it didn't take away much else. Indeed, it took full advantage of the superior sound system, especially during the thundering Boleadoras act. Anyone who says a Cirque show isn't worth seeing in an arena is lying. It is a spectacle whether in the Air Canada Centre, under the big top, or in any of the permanent shows' dastardly transforming super-stages.

Perhaps the most impressive thing about Saltimbanco is the harmony between its components. In its sixteenth touring year, newer shows under the Cirque tent have trumped it in terms of technical ingenuity and innovative acts (one may recall Kooza's "Wheel of Death" when it rolled through Toronto last September). Instead, performers snake along the multicoloured stage, deftly camouflaged. The audience rises in applause, but the show morphs into a new act before they can catch their breaths. The music switches tempo, changing tone from raucous bloc party to serious business in a second, and we are silenced in awe once again. Saltimbanco is peerless in its pacing and unity, making it a must-see event, sixteen years after its unveiling.