Absinthe is no ordinary circus, but it just might be the best thing you’ll see in a tent all year
By Jack Houston
Photography by Christopher DeVargas
Caesars Palace 7 & 9:30 p.m. Tues. & Thurs.-Sat., 7 p.m. Wed. & Sun. (dark Jan. 31), $79 & $109 plus tax and fee. 800.745.3000 Ticketmaster
The following piece was written under the influence of absinthe. Any errors, inaccuracies or unnecessarily obtuse language are a result of its transformative properties and should be forgiven upon its conclusion.
Bracing, luminescent, impenetrable—absinthe is a spirit shrouded in mystery. Once simultaneously verboten for its hallucinogenic properties and exalted by a community of artists and literary figures who turned to the Green Fairy for inspiration, it is one of the world’s most misunderstood liquors, a pale green liquid that becomes increasingly cloudy with each successive drop of water.
Absinthe, the show currently occupying a Stripside tent outside of Caesars Palace, is just as ephemeral, moving from seductive burlesque and earthy humor to gravity-defying balancing acts and breathtaking high-wire with the bat of an eyelash, or a ribald intro from the Gazillionaire, the gloriously sleazy master of ceremonies. Ostensibly the show’s producer, the Gazillionaire, played to the hilt by Voki Kalfayan, is the thread that links the profane with the profound, verbally assaulting audiences (race and sexual orientation are recurring themes) and tamping down the exploits of Penny Pibbets, his off-her-rocker co-host whose blinding energy stands in stark contrast to Gaz’s bemused indifference.
The production’s unorthodox venue, a theater in the round modeled after a century-old Spiegeltent (“spiegel” is German for mirror, those of which are placed around the perimeter of the tent), makes sure the focus is always on the circular stage, a small raised platform separated from the front row by mere feet. This intimacy has been a big reason for Absinthe’s success: you can see each muscle twitch as Duo Vector performs its balancing act, using each other’s shoulders, hands, legs and heads to contort into positions that 99 percent of the population would find impossible, if not downright otherworldly. You can also sense the constricted breaths in the opening vignette, in which a man downs a glass of absinthe and proceeds to ascend toward the top of the tent using only furniture and his own strength as his guides.
While the acrobatics and feats of strength rightly gather plenty of admiration, it’s the interludes and moments of levity that keep the production from becoming simply a circus with swear words. Melody Sweets as the sultry chanteuse and Angel Porrino (a reality star from her appearances with BFF Madison on E!’s Holly’s World) as the Weather Girl, or perhaps Bubble Girl, as might be more appropriate, are stunning in their respective roles, and in very different, very singular ways. They are the sugar cubes that cut through the absinthe, leaving a smooth finish and rounding out a flavor profile that satisfies a wide range of palates.
Like the spirit from which it takes its name, Absinthe is not for the uninitiated. It requires a complex set of tastebuds and an appreciation for the taboo. Taken as a whole, however, it is a complete theatrical experience, one that requires little more than an open mind and, depending on how the Gazillionaire’s feeling, perhaps an open mouth, as well. The best advice might be to just drink it in, and let the rest take care of itself.
