‘Zumanity’

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It started out as just (kinky) sex, but now it seems we’ve fallen for "Zumanity."

Its attitude, once brash and deliberately in your face, now plays as merely bold and open-minded. Themes of sexual acceptance that came off as impishly defiant in the Bush era now match the calm stride of a new president.

Six years and three more Cirque du Soleil titles have put the sexy Cirque in perspective since it debuted at New York-New York in 2003. Back then, Cirque had offered the Strip only the like-minded and family-friendly "Mystere" and "O."

We weren’t used to the idea of the Canadians trying to expand their brand with topless contortionists. And in retrospect, neither were they. "Zumanity" had a rocky debut and a mixed reception (though less hostile than what would await its Criss Angel show).

But "Zumanity" bore out the company’s "toolbox" approach, which continues to frustrate casino executives and early ticket buyers: If you build the right venue — in this case, a velvety cabaret of curvy, feminine lines — and match up diverse talents, they’ll eventually get it right.

"Zumanity" isn’t night-and-day different. It still has a slow windup — you’re not sure exactly when the announcements end and the show begins — and an equally leisurely wind-down that leaves the audience looking for a grand finale.

But overall, it’s smoother and more substantial in its acrobatics and music, with actual songs (some even in English!) by two singers more in the foreground.

Changes driven by cast turnover also remind you of the emphasis on individuals of all body types. The most prominent new face also symbolizes a shift in tone.

Drag emcee Joey Arias — a provocateur whose "Rocky Horror" stage get-up left no mystery about his gender — has given way to Edie (Christopher Kenny), a ’60s-glam vision of "Valley of the Dolls"-era martinis and bouffants, who has many audience members guessing.

Edie removes a layer of confrontation and even drops the camp in a caressingly steamy introduction to an adagio by Valeriy Simonenko and Katerina Bazarova. Their mix of dance and hand-balancing acrobatics answers the daydream of any guy who’s been dragged to a ballet and sat in his chair wondering, "What if they dropped the last veil of propriety and just started going at it?"

The music to set the sultry tone, with violin and pulsating New Orleans-style horns, reminds us "Zumanity" might have been made for the peekaboo thrills of Sin City, but it’s the only show that takes sex seriously.

There are laughs, but there is also an aerial act that silences the crowd, as Jill Crook gasps and moans orgasmically while suspended in chains, before climaxing through self-strangulation.

As comic relief Shannon Calcutt had said earlier, "You’re not gonna see this over at Donny and Marie."

You do see sexier variations on acts more familiar to other Cirques: The woman (Felix Cane) trying to lure the menfolk’s eyes from the football screen now does the most acrobatic pole dance in town. There are aerialists, entwined in long silks, and contortionists: two lithe young women discovering first love in a giant water bowl.

Their same-sex affection has been less controversial than the show’s notorious male kiss. Over the years, a humorous context was more clearly established; their cage-fighting is to compete for a woman’s affections.

Call it all today’s version of something for everyone, including seniors.

"Zumanity" used to fake people out by pulling a retirement-age ballroom dancing couple from the audience. The bit often backfired. People were swept into a big "Awww" moment, only to be angered when the con was revealed. So the directors cut the plants and kept the "Awww," inviting genuine long-married couples to the stage.

It’s for the best. To keep this relationship going for six years, we must be honest with one another, right?

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.