REVIEW: ‘Cirque Alice’ shows strong proof of human bodies in the age of AI

REVIEW: ‘Cirque Alice’ shows strong proof of human bodies in the age of AI

“What a joy to go to the theater and see unbelievable sights and feel a vicarious adrenaline rush. By curtain call, you’ll feel like you too defied gravity and might need a breather.”

 

Fantasy has always come with an agreement. A surreal film announces itself, the lights go down, and we agree to believe the impossible because we know going in that none of it is real. The internet skips that agreement. AI-generated video now turns up in our feeds without context, without our consent, and often without a tell, which makes us used to what used to be ‘uncanny valley’ territory.

What Cirque Alice, the circus-theater Wonderland at The Theatre at Solaire, is offering is an antidote to this madness: a two-hour showcase of what human bodies can do right in front of the very eyes of theatergoers making the excursion to see it.

Themed party

It’s an Alice in Wonderland adaptation (Kirsty White and Ash Jacks McCready are the creative directors), though there’s not much story to be had. There’s no real progression of a narrative, not even a tea party at the end, which feels like a missed opportunity given that the experience includes stage seats that are configured as though audience members themselves are party guests.

Here, the source work is more of a theme than the story. There is an Alice (Layla Schillert), who sings a couple of songs in languages other than English and closes with “Ave Maria,” as though thanking a divine being that nothing untoward happened on stage.

The costumes (by Angela Aaron) are plentiful: designed leotards that sit like second skin on the cast, some in colors and patterns in keeping with Alice in Wonderland and with circus fare. The Mad Hatter (Darren Partridge) gets a few sleight-of-hand moments and gimmicky magic tricks, though he comes across as the ‘funny’ uncle at a family-friendly event, the one with the borderline-off jokes.

Bodies as art

Where the story falls short, the performers do not. What you’ll witness in Cirque Alice are actual human beings doing practically inhuman things right in front of your eyes. It is closer to witnessing a sport than watching a play, with bodies that break all the rules of how human joints work and perhaps the laws of physics themselves.

And what a joy it is. What an absolute palate cleanser of a joy to go to the theater and see unbelievable sights and feel a vicarious adrenaline rush. By curtain call, you’ll feel like you too defied gravity and might need a breather.

The Tweedles (Temesgen Adole Zada and Leul Derreje Ashebir) get things going, one using the other as a barrel, the way cartoons play with one by the foot. Then the White King and Queen (Mathieu Cloutier and Myriam Lessard) turn into a figure-skating double act on roller skates, spinning on a small circular platform set on top of the already small circular stage at the end of a runway, the woman tethered by her head to the man’s neck as he turns and she spins too.

The March Hare (Viktor Hladchenko) makes a big hoop look easy, spinning inside it, spinning it, and spinning with it. The Caterpillar (Munkhjin Tuvd, Bayarmaa Ganbat, Shinechimeg Otgonbayar, and Dolgorsuren Ganbold) is a group of acrobats who contort their bodies into formations. Snap-Dragonfly (Vladyslav Tsarov) throws himself about on a pole, indeed a bit like a dragonfly.

From there, balance and height take over. The Dormouse (Daniel Onofre) builds structures of tubes and platforms, then teeters on top of them. The Queen of Hearts (Veronika Ivanova) gives a gymnastic, acrobatic solo. The Flamingos (Anna Stelmakh and Evgenii Slepukhin) are a crowd favorite, lithe and whimsical in an aerial routine of spins and often holding each other up by the ankle, with one amazing moment when the woman spins, suspended by the man high above the stage as pink petals fall. The Knights (Fadhili Rashidi and Ibrahim Mwaimise) are a pair in which one carries the other, who balances in a hands-free handstand on top of his head.

Close enough to the action, you see the effort on their faces. Incredible feats are not without risk. Rehearsed as they are, this might be the one time they slip and fall. It adds to the reality of the endeavor they’re performing for audiences. From the stage you can see no harnesses or safety mats, and there is even a medic just off stage.

Flesh and bone

Sitting on the stage puts you close to everything, at an opportunity cost: you miss the scenic formations shown to the seats watching the show as a proscenium.

Still, the show gives an unbelievable, you-have-to-see-it-to-believe-it night of live theater. These are real, authentic humans doing real, authentic stagecraft, and the stakes are high precisely because the people you’re witnessing here, like you and me, are flesh and bone.

 

This reviewer watched the 8 PM, Oct 16 show.

 

Tickets: ₱2,000-₱7,500
Show Dates: October 16-25, 2026
Venue: The Theatre at Solaire, Entertainment City, Parañaque
Running Time: approx. 2 hours (w/ 20-min intermission)
Producer: GMG Productions
Creatives: Kirsty White and Ash Jacks McCready (creative directors), Dane Bates (choreographer), Angela Aaron (costume designer), Hugo Mercier Bosseny (lighting designer), Martin Raabe-Olsen and Marius Christiansen (music arrangements)
Cast: Layla Schillert (Alice), Darren “Dizzy” Partridge (The Mad Hatter), Raphael Papo (The White Rabbit), Temesgen Adole Zada and Leul Derreje Ashebir (The Tweedles), Mathieu Cloutier and Myriam Lessard (The White King and The White Queen), Viktor Hladchenko (The March Hare), Vladyslav Tsarov (Snap-Dragonfly), Veronika Ivanova (The Queen of Hearts), Fadhili Rashidi, and Ibrahim Mwaimise (The Knights), Daniel Onofre (The Dormouse), Munkhjin Tuvd, Bayarmaa Ganbat, Shinechimeg Otgonbayar, and Dolgorsuren Ganbold (The Caterpillar), Anna Stelmakh and Evgenii Slepukhin (The Flamingos), Kaylee Smith, Lexie Calis, Gabriel Herrera, and Cooper Wayne (Dancers)