"Cirque du Soleil’s Paramour is crashing and burning on Broadway." screams The Globe and Mail in London, "and there’s no point in calling the paramedics. No team of show doctors could cure this bafflingly bad show set in the Golden Age of Hollywood."
In Gotham, site of the carnage, early reviews just in for Cirque du Soleil's Paramour, from Wall Street Journal to New York Times, point to a big floporama, with some great acts that only make the sub-mediocre musical this thing is supposed to be seem and feel even more dreary and second rate.
That's what I glean here in front of my PC in California, surfing critical reaction.
A mixed review from AP finds similarities between Paramour and Spiderman, the latter having opened at the same theatre, where it enjoyed early popular favor but ultimately crashed and burned, to a colossal loss.
But Cirque's visual feast may hold an edge over Spiderman's in that, as AP notes, Paramour "has the ability to astonish."
"Some things just don’t belong together,
and you’d think that Cirque, having failed so miserably with New York
productions of Banana Shpeel and Zarkana to force this
unwanted conjugation, would by now have understood that, or at least
have chosen better models and hired a team familiar with the workings of
real musicals. It’s an especially arrogant form of carpetbaggery to
think that, with enough money, you can do anything. Paramour was capitalized at around $25 million. That’s twice the cost of Hamilton, which admittedly does not include even one drone-controlled lampshade. That must be its problem."