GRANDMA GOES WEST
No, really. Even little what’s-his-name, the two-year-old, ended up loving it–though he was seriously disconcerted by some arty bits early on, where the show’s Wild West theme and flavor are established. Moody evocations of the primeval plains sent him scrambling right up over my shoulder.
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But Pedro Reis’s “cloud swing” act, where he rides a rope like a trapeze, along with some fancy balloon popping by the company clowns helped loosen the kid up. He likes balloons. By the time David Rosaire unleashed a “stampede” of performing Pekingese dogs, he was completely won over. His five-year-old brother, meanwhile, literally fell out of his seat laughing at Rosaire’s gun-slinging baboon.
As charmed as I was by most everything in this show, the clowns were my favorites. Cesar Aedo is obviously the lost love child of Harpo Marx and Marcel Marceau. His attempts to move a rebellious suitcase are hilarious and wonderful; his audience games combine uncommon gentleness with a frenetic physical wit.
