So far, the New York Times has yet to approve my response to Neil Genzlinger's review of Banana Shpeel. Until then, I'll reprint the review and my response here.
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The review:
Dear Theater Ethicist: Should I feel guilty that, for me, the most satisfying moment of Cirque du Soleil’s “Banana Shpeel” came when a clown was riddled with mock machine-gun fire?
Dear Theatergoer: No. For one thing, the “mock” suggests that the clown was probably not seriously wounded. For another, clown eradication is something that would benefit all of humanity and would certainly benefit this show, which is not as entertaining as something that lasts almost two and a half hours ought to be.
“Banana Shpeel,” written and directed by David Shiner (who created the wonderful “Fool Moon” with Bill Irwin), is partly a vaudeville-ish variety show and partly a scripted story involving some clowns who vex an impresario named Marty Schmelky (Danny Rutigliano). The variety-show acts — Coney Island with very, very high production values — are diverting enough: a woman (Vanessa Alvarez) who juggles mats with her feet; a hat juggler (Le Tuan); a muscular fellow (Dmitry Bulkin) who does all sorts of gymnastic things around and atop a pole; three somewhat creepy contortionists.
These elements are, in short, the kinds of polished routines Cirque fans have come to expect at the troupe’s ever-growing collection of shows: impressive physical feats performed in cool costumes (by Dominique Lemieux) and bathed in arresting lighting (Bruno Rafie). But they take up less than half of this extravaganza, whose New York opening — a retooled version of a show that critics treated harshly last year in Chicago — was delayed several times. The rest is devoted to production numbers and the lazily written story of Schmelky and the clowns.
Schmelky is a bombastic showman who early in the show oversees “clown auditions.” The three competitors escape backstage and spend the rest of the show harassing him. In the process Schmelky tries on a personality change — trading his anger for a more Zen-like approach — but it’s hard to care because the character is thinly drawn, and Mr. Rutigliano doesn’t invest him with any sympathetic qualities. You know your show has a bad book when the audience spends its time wishing the lady with the juggling feet would come back.
Give the clowns their due: they are sometimes funny, with Patrick De Valette getting the most laughs, primarily because he’s wearing a raincoat and isn’t shy about flashing his orange undies. But with clowns, less is always more. By Act II these have worn out their welcome. The high point of the show’s second half — besides that machine-gunning — is provided by the lighting and costume designers, who combine for the production’s most eye-popping bit, a dance under black light featuring outfits that seem to change color as the number goes along.
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And my response:
I have not seen this show, so I cannot speak on Mr. Genzlinger's review of it. And I have, in the past, worked intimately with four of the clowns in this show, as well as the director, so I am not without bias.
However, I take umbrage with Mr. Genzlinger's blanket distaste for all clowns. He snarkily writes of the benefit of clown eradication and in the next breath calls Fool Moon "wonderful"--a clown show created and performed by clowns. This leads me to believe that Mr. Genzlinger really doesn't dislike all clowns, but rather he was making a cheap and artless remark against an art form that is already much maligned these days. Do you wish Buster Keaton's work be eradicated? Dick Van Dyke? Carol Burnett? Roberto Benigni?
I wish my friends Claudio, Daniel, Gordon and Wayne, as well as Patrick, Danny, and the rest of the cast and crew a long and successful run. And I wish Mr. Genzlinger many fitful nights as he is haunted--nay, devoured--by creatures in rainbow wigs and polka dot pants in his dreams.
Sincerely,
Jimmy Slonina
Clown
