They juggle. They sing. They dance in tutus, hairy legs and all. They set up silly skits. They mangle Shakespeare. They juggle some more.
Children at the opening night performance of the Flying Karamazov Brothers at ACT sat at the edges of their seats as fluorescent blue orbs bounced up and down on the dark stage, juggled by unseen hands. From this opening scene, the spectacles move at a fast pace, from one crazy stunt to another. A 6-year-old boy a few seats down from me said his favorite was when three of the four “brothers” juggled with traditional juggling pins, while hitting drums held behind their backs. (You have to see it to visualize it.) He also liked the taiko drumming bit with cardboard boxes serving as the drums, resulting in the drums being reduced to shreds under the pounding juggling pins.
The Flying Karamazov Brothers got their start when Paul Magid, today’s director, and a friend began performing in 1973. They named themselves after the characters in Fyodor Dostoyevsky‘s classic novel, and incorporated music, dance, juggling and humor in what they called “the theatrerof everything.” Don’t even try to guess what’s coming next.
All of the children I could see from my seat were delighted by the audience participation part – when people can bring down any kind of object for the Champ to juggle. (They must be heavier than an ounce, less than 10 pounds, no bigger than a breadbox and not a live animal.) Audience members choose, by applause, which of the objects will be juggled. That night it was a long-legged doll, a dumbbell greased with Vaseline and a long pink water balloon, the subject of mildly lewd comments. Of course, the Champ couldn’t keep such disparate objects in the air for 10 seconds, and so he got a pie in the face.
The pie-in-the-face kind of slapstick appeals to the kids, and a lot of adults. Throughout the show, the four comedians/musicians/jugglers accumulated a “wall of terror” of nine different objects to juggle. One was an egg. One was on fire. One had a blade. Amazingly, all four brothers kept them all in the air – at once.
The recommended age range for the show is 5 to 100. A lot of it appeals to kids and teens, although the Shakespeare bits were difficult to grasp. There is some sexual innuendo and making fun of Catholics. The mother of the 6-year-old boy in our row was happy that most of those asides went over her son’s head; if she’d brought her older daughter, she might have had to do some explaining, she said.
