"I never thought I would say this, but I like the circus."
Thus proclaims our guide to the proper attitudes suitable for taking in a new kind of Greatest Show on Earth. She is Ashley Webster Babcock of Maine, known for her work that focuses on the relationship between humans, animals, and environments. Her credentials make her the ideal reviewer for what the Felds are now up to.
But the heavenly relief I imagine her feeling in an animal-free show was jolted by a totally unexpected invader from the older, more vulgar world now under lock down — when a robotic dog invaded the tent, causing our charmed critic to cringe like a petrified senior snow flake.
"Children and adults of all ages definitely will have nightmares tonight about Bailey the robot dog, who dons a pink mohawk and matching pom-pom poodle tail and a face that resembles that of the Teletubbies’ vacuum cleaner. Bailey and slapsticker Nick Nack hold a dance-off, the winner of which is unclear”
Perhaps a little pre-performance counseling for those entering with residual anxieties from past encounters in real circus lands?
She was there in a crowd of 4,000 on opening day down in Louisiana, and now reviews the show in the latest issue of Esquire.
A sampling of her notice: "A ten-person dance troupe performs a fusion folk
dance, and three people stacked atop one another skip rope. There are
lots of interesting haircuts."
Her long essay, which covers Ringling history in modern times, feels like a straining intellectual struggle to justify a new kind of acrobatic show that dares not speak its previous name. (The C word) In a nation called America, were far-left revolutionaries are redefining realities as deeply rooted in science as gender, to the point of practically outlawing pronouns, will “ circus.” too, become such a scorned word?
Babcock looks back with collegial ambivalence, and now is relieved to look forward to what she and her kind are ready to accept. Happy to quote PETA attorney Brittany Peet, who granted: “I think I’m going to take my nephews to the circus. I never would have thought that would be something I was saying.”
Will this new GSOE flood the gates with members of the above clique? I wouldn't bet on it. But the Felds already have their audience base of Disney on Ice patrons to play to. Could be an easy win-win for both.
This is, yes, one hell of a chapter in American circus history — if you happen to believe that “circus” has a distinctive meaning all its own. Trust me: children still LOVE performing animals. And trust me, children still LOVE the clowns. And so do adults.
When John Ringling North sold the show to the Felds in 1967, he made known his belief in “their concern and dedication to maintain the concept, traditions and artistic standards inherent in the world-famous title The Greatest Show on Earth."
The word inherent, as defined: Existing in something as a permanent, essential, or characteristic attribute.
What would Irvin Feld think of all this? I remember him in old program magazines gong on about the family feeling a pride in being “stewards of the circus.”
For me, the issue is not how good the show is or how well it may fare. A far greater issue is with the Ringling name and legacy, and how the Felds are reducing it in scope to a vapid shadow of what it once was, when under other less rattled or regulated big tops around the world, grateful family crowds are still waiting to take in what we call CIRCUS.
Kenneth Feld's conscience?
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