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Cirque Avaia

At the Woodbine Racetrack

In Toronto on Saturday

We all know what the term "family entertainment" really means - it's something your kids will like that you, the parent, will be able to tolerate. On occasion, though, you come across something that, while still mostly speaking to the younger generations, does manage to and appeal to all ages.

Cirque Avaia, a clown- and acrobat-filled big top act currently in Toronto for a month-long run, is aiming for this status, promoting itself as a thrill for "every audience member from three to 93." And the good news is, they've succeeded.

First things first: You should know that despite using "cirque" in its name, Cirque Avaia is not affiliated with Cirque du Soleil. That super-circus franchise from Quebec, which has been a mainstay in Vegas, and this November hits New York's Madison Square Garden, operates on a much grander scale.

But, Cirque Avaia, no doubt inspired by that groundbreaking cirque, should be considered its first cousin. A first cousin from Russia, who really likes horses. Yes, horses are a specialty of the Kantemirov family, who put on Avaia with a troupe of 55 Russian performers, and have been involved in the circus one way or another going all the way back to 1871. There are 19 horses in the show, of several different rare breeds, whose exotic names include Trakenen and Akhalteke, though they may be better described as "that fantastical white one that the Queen of Light from Zeppelin's Battle of Evermore would have rode" or "that brutish-looking one with the really, really muscular neck."

The staggering finale of the show features the centuries-old Russian military technique called Cossack riding, in which men fling themselves under and about these animals as if they were simply stationary pommel horses, and not at full gallop around the circular stage. For the most part, though, the stage is a bit tight for the animals to do anything too interesting - it's the humans who are the real highlight of the show.

Early on, a group of four men called Atlantis - each with the same spiky bleached hairdo and wearing identical aquamarine skintight outfits - personify the movement of the ocean through a combination of modern dance and gymnastics. As they undulate and tie knots around each other, you're compelled to ask whether these human beings actually contain any bones in their bodies. The climax of their sequence comes when the virtuoso of the quartet does a one-armed handstand on top of another performer's head.

And that other guy is not even standing on the ground - his feet are planted on the back of the necks of two men, who are themselves doing handstands.

No matter what your age - or ordinarily cynical disposition - there's really no other response possible than awe. In fact, it's quite likely that the older members of the audience would be more amazed than the children, having a fuller understanding each year of the body's limitations.

Another highlight is Galina, the seven-ring juggler, who is dressed in a frilly red getup with a bejewelled bikini top that's Wonder Woman meets I Dream of Genie . She hams it up, obviously enjoying herself onstage, and after flawlessly performing her ring tossing, she leaves, haughtily ignoring a clown who is offering his stuffed, carnie-style heart.

The clowns - who come on as sets are put up and taken down get everyone laughing with vaudeville-style physical humour, one falling flat on his face while trying out a trampoline. But they also pepper in double-entendre winks to the adults, such as when a clown dressed up as a worm actually does "the worm," that old break-dance move.

There's much more, including a group of female contortionists who (like the Atlantis gents) have obviously had all their bones surgically turned to Silly Putty, hand-springing trampoline tumblers who make Mary Lou Retton look like a sideshow, and a guy who is thankfully very accurate with knives.

At certain points in the show, the little children in the front row were sufficiently awed to forget they were only halfway through their cotton candy.

Avaia is a show all ages will find some pleasure in. And, after the last act, you can let grandma keep the kids for a while as you cross the parking lot and put down a twenty at that neighbouring venue where the eccentrics are more often found in the audience - the Woodbine racetrack.

Cirque Avaia is running until May 27th. Ticket info: Ticketmaster, 416-872-1111, http://www.ticketmaster.ca.

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