Cirque's creative brain trust, including "guide" Guy Laliberte and director Franco Dragone, have crafted each production as an extended performance piece framed by recurrent characters, unified production design, and underlying themes. Already mesmerizing visual tableaux and astonishing illusions are given an added poignancy (and, occasionally, true gravity) by the productions' underlying comments about society, conformity, beauty, and emotion; even without such conscious motifs, however, Cirque's sheer artistry is never less than riveting.

Quidam revolves around an Everychild, living with self-absorbed (and deliberately archetypal) parents, who's whisked away to a vividly surreal world where Cirque's remarkable acrobats and artists take literal flight. Their tools are often prosaic--oversized flying rings, an open steel wheel large enough for a single inhabitant, skateboards, ropes--yet the resulting images are stunning. Injecting further drama and atmosphere is the score (here by musical director Benoit Jutras), which is as far removed from traditional circus music as Cirque's "acts" are from Barnum & Bailey. Performed with synthesizers, electric guitar, solo reed instruments, percussion, and voice (often singing in a kind of Esperanto that's tantalizing yet foreign), Cirque's music can be dismissed as New Age only until heard in its intended context.

Like three earlier video productions, Quidam can't quite achieve the sheer, enveloping wonder that its theatrical source does. But for fans of Cirque du Soleil's unique performance art, this latest presentation sustains the troupe's magic. --Sam Sutherland