Story & photos by Shivani Khanna, Andrea Park, Sarah Pfander & Jessica Stark
Gargoyle staff reporters
Posted Wednesday, May 31, 2006, The OG, features

Before we saw the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus at the Assembly Hall on April 22, we were convinced that being at The Greatest Show on Earth would simply be an enjoyable trip down memory lane that would help us reconnect with our inner child.

For us the circus was a faded memory that tasted sugary sweet, smelled like excitement, sounded like the laughter of a totally engaged crowd, and looked like glittering excitement ready to explode.

That Saturday, however, called into question our preconceived notions about the wonders of the circus and the genuineness of Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey's all-out effort to “Save the Day From the Everyday.”

After arriving at the Assembly Hall, protesters holding up signs and pictures of abused animals immediately came into view. Apparently the circus isn't all about happy people, happy animals, and good times. We learned, after speaking to protester Misty Goodman, that Ringling Bros. mistreats animals — out of eight baby elephants born in captivity, four have died, she told us. (In fairness, here is what the circus has to say in defense of its treatment of animals.)

A dark mist had settled over the spectacular circus that had lived so fondly in our memories — suddenly going to the circus had somehow become a moral conflict. Four girls buying $16 tickets each: That's 64 more dollars to fund Ringling's mistreatment of animals, if in fact the stories were true.

Taking our seats we found that the Assembly Hall had transformed into a real circus. Greasy men with crooked teeth selling lemonade yelled at the crowd of guests, young girls with their fathers looked eagerly toward the stage for the magic to begin, and the strangely delicious combination of salty popcorn and sweet cotton candy had reached our taste buds. Momentarily we could forget about the animals and know the show would fulfill our every childhood expectation.

The show started with a catchy song with the over-enthusiastic circus troupe dancing along. The whole crowd tried to get into the groove, but somehow we already knew the show would be a complete letdown.

The first act made us realize the overwhelming feeling of disappointment — a small blonde girl in an electric blue leotard directed four white horses to run circles around circumference of the stage. For about five minutes the great horses, who were obviously missing a large amount of hair from their manes, were puppets to this tiny girl. Mindlessly they ran around and around and around, stopping every once in a while to do a twirl — how impressively dull.

The next few acts were unremarkable — a girl playing with her dog, clowns bouncing around, and little children playing with bubbles. Perhaps if we were younger we would have been more entertained with these mindless acts, but our maturity and need for more quality humor prevented us from engaging ourselves in the excitement.

The acts after the intermission were more along the lines of what we had been hoping for. We were stunned by the flexibility and daring of the girl in the scarf act. The power and grace by which she effortlessly climbed the scarf made us doubt our own physical aptitude. We held our breath as she knotted herself high above the ground and then flung herself free, rolling and tumbling toward the ground. We only allowed ourselves oxygen when she stopped barely above the ground, held still by the knot on the scarf.

The aerial and tightrope acts were just as breathtaking, and they left us wanting more — another swing from the trapeze with a flip in midair or another shaky walk across the tightrope. But the splendor of these acts was short-lived as the next act involved the infamous circus elephants.

The questions about animal abuse raced through our head as we watched the elephants beat on drums and kick soccer balls. What was disguised as fun for the elephants seemed to be more of a nuisance. They were paraded around and made to sit upright as a person would, and the general nature of their act ended up being a letdown.

For us the circus ended up being a cruel shock, and it filled us with a mixture of regret and despair. The circus had lost its magic and charm, and we regretted having spent our money and our morning watching animals being humiliated.

Aside from the poor treatment of animals, this circus lacked the basic essentials of the human cannonball act as well as the acrobatic troupe. With these additions to their show and the replacement of the animal acts with better quality circus humor, we felt that the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus would greatly benefit. We were later told that such a show does exist: the Cirque du Soleil.

We have decided that Ringling Bros. is no longer meant for us, and shows such as the Cirque du Soleil hold a larger promise of entertainment and fulfillment. Since we wouldn't have achieved this enlightenment without visiting the circus of our childhood one final time, perhaps the money spent on those $16 tickets wasn't wasted after all.

Note: The photos below were taken at the April 22 Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey performance in the Assembly Hall.