[mousepod]

Last post - this is the one that actually contains my review of the show.
(By the way - it's nice to be back iSm)

Heather arrived early Saturday morning. We were all staying at the Venetian, and we had a little birthday luncheon for my niece, who had just turned one, in my parents' suite. We strolled down the strip (all the way to Mandalay Bay) and back in time for a casual bite at the Grand Luxe (or something like that) restaurant in the Venetian, which turned out to be a Cheesecake Factory. In all, seven of us were going to shows: 3 to O, 2 to catch Celine (for real), and 2 (that's us) to Love. The Mirage was right across the street, and since we were going to the late show, we ran upstairs for a disco nap.

The casino floor of the Mirage was fairly crowded. The Carnegie Deli (try the corned beef) on our left, the Siegfried and Roy Secret Garden somewhere off in the distance to the right - but straight ahead was the theater that would be the scene of my enrapturement -- or so I hoped.

Like Ka, the ushers and ticket takers were all in costume, to start the experience immediately, er, straight away. We were welcomed by a lovely meter maid. The show is presented in the round, as SzczerbiakManiac pointed out. The 6,000+ speakers that the press release talks about basically amount to the same stereo speakers in the seat back that they use in the Ka theater, plus a speaker pointing at you from the seat back in the person's chair directly in front of you. The inside of the theater is actually not that exciting. There are two 100-foot long movie screens on two opposing walls, and there are movable scrims that quarter the theater (which come out on occasion for some neat movie tricks). The pre-show music featured Beatles music with the lead vocals removed. I treated Heather to some unsolicited geek karaoke. Then the show started.

Love is a freaking mess. It tells a loose story of the history of the Beatles, starting with the rooftop concert (ask a Beatles fan to explain this to you), and flashing back to the Blitz (all of the Beatles were WWII babies) and progressing back up to the breakup. The show is a series of vignettes, all of which feature a few very talented people doing clearly difficult yet beautiful dance pieces while surrounded by a dozen or more people in loud costumes running around them being silly. It's as if someone not connected with Cirque saw Twyla Tharp's take on Billy Joel and said "Let's do this with Beatles music." Then, after the choreography was done, someone else said "We need to have a bunch of acrobats running around in cool costumes, too." Some of it was cool, but most of it either stretched my credulity to the limits (an extended trampoline sequence featuring a phone box - a breakdancer spinning on his head and then gesturing for applause - a loooong inline skate sequence) or was completely offensive. Not offensive in a "they've ruined the Beatles music" way, but offensive in a "Oh my f-ing god, that was seriously homophobic" way. (The rest of this paragraph contains spoilers). One "gag" featured three male characters entering the stage holding flowers. One woman comes out, walks up to the first man, takes his flowers and walks out on his arm. Then two women enter and both of them approach the second man, accept his flowers and walk out on his arms. The last man stands alone the stage with his bouquet when a muscular shirtless hunk enters opposite. The first man quickly hides his bouquet behind his back. Big laughs. Hi-friggin-larious.

One other bit worth spoiling is the vignette where four guys on wires enter the stage in black smoke-emitting costumes flapping broken umbrellas for wings. They thud onto the stage. A man in a lab coat comes out and yells at them: "Blackbird! Singing in the dead of night! Take these broken wings and learn to fly!" etc etc. as the birds attempt to fly. No cheap joke is omitted in this one, from the knee to the groin, to the finale, where the lab coated man snaps on a rubber glove and administers the punch line to one of the Blackbird's butts. Yay Beatles. I remember seeing Paul McCartney a few years ago in San Jose, and he explained to the audience that the song was about the Civil Rights Movement. Not anymore, Sir Paul.

I regret skipping Mystere and O. I want my money back. I want my evening back. Maybe I missed something, but it's gonna take a lot of 'splaining to get get me to reconsider my opinion.

End of rant.

"...and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make"