Teatro ZinZanni is a great way to spend a fall evening in downtown Chicago. Would I rely on it for dinner? Probably not. Would I do drinks beforehand? Probably. But the circus performers were excellent, and that's what we're really there for. The space was also dramatic and jaw-dropping, a large indoor circus tent complete with disco balls, extravagant lighting fixtures, and a dance floor. And though you might be tempted to bring the kids to this one, there were a few less-than-appropriate bits throughout the night.
For food, you can opt for the four-course meal and pre-order during online checkout for 10% off. (You can also pick this option when you arrive for the show.) The a la carte option allows you to mix and match the shareable snack section and sweets, with the same pre-order discount opportunity in place. We chose the four-course meal, beginning the evening with a tiny snack, the goat cheese & bell pepper scone with house-made salted butter. Though the scone was good, I wouldn't categorize this as a first course, especially when considered as a part of a meal served throughout a long evening. This scone was where my hunger began.
My sister, who attended the show with me, asked, "Do you want me to ruin things for ya?" since she's already seen the performance. I'm usually not one for spoilers, and I had already received an email about certain elements that I should leave out of my review in order to retain the mystery for future show-goers. But when she asked me, I had already noticed some of the wait staff acting a bit strange, and quickly put together that they were actually the performers doing a bit of crowd work. There was the accountant character, with a giant calculator, tripping over a lengthy printed bill. There was a server who almost spilled bottles of wine on a table every few minutes, who I later learned was the evening's professional juggler. And there were busboy accidents and a self-conscious waitress, which gave me some low-grade secondhand embarrassment. Still, I enjoyed this light show of clowning before the performance began.
Of course, this is a show in Chicago, so there was an early joke with the maître d' about a Chicago handshake, AKA, drinking a can of Old Style and taking a Malört shot. Then we got to watch Madame Zinzanni, a vocal powerhouse who ushered us into the evening. If I could buy an entire album of her covers, it would be an honor. Shivers!
For drinks, I ordered the Pear Spritz, complete with Citadelle Gin, Spiced Pear Liqueur, Lemon, Pear Simple Syrup, and Prosecco. It was what my sister calls "crushable"—light, inoffensive, and fruity. She ordered the Pama-Rita, which included El Mayor Tequila, Papa Luqueur, pomegranate juice, lime, and agave. She enjoyed it, but wasn't blown away.
Next came one of the performance highlights—the juggler, Spencer Androli. I eventually lost count of the number of balls in the air—six? Seven? More?—and he kept the performance entertaining with fluid transitional moves and great stage presence. It was an amazingly clean performance for such an unpredictable medium, and nary a ball or club or disc hit the floor on his watch.
The next course for the evening was a relatively simple salad dish, which both my sister and I enjoyed. It included red leaf butter lettuce, candied walnuts, dried cranberries, apple, blue cheese crumble (which we went without), and red wine vinaigrette. The salad was tasty, but meager, and even the brain food and fruit, walnuts and cranberries, couldn't sustain me for long. We already had to wait until the first intermission to receive it, which triggered a bit of a scarcity complex in my brain. Would this salad keep me full during the 15-minute intermission and all the way through the next act until we were served our entrée course? Had I made a terrible mistake by not adding an additional appetizer, though it would have added almost $20 to our prepaid four-course bill? The salad was tasty, but it created a deeper hunger which I'm still analyzing with the help of paid mental health professionals.
Like the juggler, the hooping artist Aerial Emery blew us away with her clean tricks and smooth form. She was a terrific performer, providing plenty of side banter for the audience, laughing and smiling her way through super difficult tricks. Aerial established herself as a standout performer early on with her insecure waitress bit (Did we like her outfit? Was she wearing enough clothes for fine dining service?), and her main act didn't disappoint. Her routine had the whole audience jamming to "Superfreak" and feeling inspired to take up hooping themselves.
Lindsay Culbert-Olds was our aerial artist for the evening, performing on straps, which are essentially just what they sound like—looped material that hangs from the ceiling, which performers put on their wrists and ride sky high. Lindsay's strength was jaw-dropping, as she wrapped herself up in the straps, gained height, then performed dramatic drops, leaving the crowd gasping in awe.
One of the only sticking points for me in the entire night's performance was the over-the-top clowning from the show's director, Joe De Paul. He sang an off-key version of "Fly Me to the Moon" and incorporated a lot of audience participation. Some of it was cute, like putting a napkin on a kid's head and collaborating with a tall crowd member who lifted Joe up above his head. Other elements were less family-friendly, with him hiking up his shorts into a thong and moving toward the families sitting closest to the stage (one of which left the show during intermission). Ultimately, I would've preferred more circus artists performing high-level skills than so much crass clownery.
The main course was bland but inoffensive: seared salmon, with a bourbon peach glaze, roasted asparagus, orzo, and parsley. It had a bit of a Lean Cuisine vibe to it, since the orzo was unseasoned and the salmon was well-cooked but left little impression. Overall, as we finished our final dish in a four-course meal, I was neither satisfied nor full. And I'm not sure we would have been better off with either of the other entrée options: the Airline Chicken or Madame Z's Medley, which is a vegetable dish.
The dessert for the evening was meant to be a spiced pineapple tartlet, but we opted out. Instead, they served us a sorbet. It was kind of like a hard smoothie. (I remain convinced that no one actually likes sorbet.)
One truly mind-blowing circus act was the hair hang, which was exactly what it sounds like. Danila Bim, also the show's assistant director, hung suspended above the stage floor, swimming through the air with ease. Though this content might have you clutching your skull in empathy, this professional is perfectly in charge of the unbelievable stunt, manipulating her body through rapid-fire flips and spins so fast you'd expect to see them on an ice rink.
Another highlight was Kyran Walton, who doubled as the maître d' and the evening's hand balancer. We had a funny interaction during our salad course in which he offered us pepper from a comically large, but fully functional pepper grinder. During his act, Kyran seemed impossibly strong, performing balletic moves completely upside down and shifting from one hand to another with constant musicality. It's fair to say he took our breath away, and I've never seen a performance quite like it.
I also would be remiss not to mention the evening's tap dancer, Mariko Iwasa. She was thoroughly entertaining as various characters throughout the night, and came into her own as the ringmaster. The only issue with this number was that the volume of the live band prevented us from hearing the taps, which is one of the most exciting parts of a tap number. Still, we could tell that the performer was a master at her craft.
I would watch an entire show that was just the circus/dance performers and Madame Zinzanni singing the night away. The food was wholly lackluster, though I can't speak for the additional items on the a la carte menu. And waiting for the food to come out all evening, through the slog of two intermissions (though they tried to keep us entertained with crowd work), was harrowing, but we lived to tell the tale. The show was ultimately about love and community, and that's what circus and performance have always relied on—an engaged and supportive audience, moved by the performers' passionate storytelling.
Teatro ZinZanni is located at 32 W Randolph St, Chicago. You can plan your visit and purchase tickets on their website.
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