Still a few more items to share, in the 2024 countdown of yuletide decor…
No. 20—This Santa is behind a small stack of Christmas gifts, and there’s no denying: he’s either waiting for Rudolph to swing by with the sleigh, or he’s pau hana and perhaps the gifts are his. You can create your own storyline. Anyhow, note he’s resting on a circular wedge from a tree trunk.
It’s homeward bound, in our ongoing Christmas countdown of holiday decor, vintage 2024…
19—This was an idea that worked after the first trial. A Santa’s cap in red, purchased at WalMaret, is not much fun, so I tucked teeny-weeny charms into its base (there’s space where the white band is). Slip a flat circular ingredient – actually an O from a Tic-Tac-Toe gameboard – over the cap, and glue. Voila, a second floor for more mini-ornaments.
So goes the adage, but I have seen the future of Waikiki entertainment, and it’s Cirque du Soleil’s awesome and enchanting wizardry, entitled “‘Auana,” Hawaiian for “to wander, to drift from place to place.”
It’s a spectacle of visual and musical riches, which formally opens tonight (Dec. 18) at the Outrigger Theatre at the Outrigger Waikiki Beachcomber Hotel. I saw it Sunday (Dec.15) in one of the final preview stagings.
“‘Auana” is impressive and inventive, with beaucoup appeal to a global audience because of Cirque du Soleil’s years of splendid creations and track record. On a scale of 1 to 10, I give “‘Auana” an emphatic 10, a show that could possibly make the prevalent luau experience here obsolete. Not a threat, but a probability.
Its principal creators are Neil Doward, the director and co-creator of “‘Auana,” and Aaron J. Sala, the island-based cultural and creative producer for the show. They are the minds behind this miracle.
It’s a different, daring production with a pioneering style, created with its own bold, beautiful signature, and staged entirely in the Hawaiian language. “‘Auana” is chock full of ‘olelo and mele, with a soundtrack that appears to be pre-recorded with perhaps a small orchestra performing live but performed by a vibrant and versatile ensemble of singers/dancers experiencing a fresh new journey amid a whirlpool of hula kahiko, lusciously bathed by a soundtrack that is enticing and energizing.
I wish I could be specific and share names and numbers of the spirited troupe, but the show – like other Cirque ventures elsewhere – appears to maintain a don’t ask, don’t tell policy.
Ten things worthy of your attention:
1— You don’t need to speak or understand Hawaiian, to “get” what is staged; the visuals are powerful, the staging incredible. You’ll quickly become acclimated to the rhythm of the vocabulary.
2— The choreography, by Hiwa Vaughan, is spirited, fresh, consuming; the dances will draw you into the moment, number after number. Her choreography is ravishing and revolutionary.
3— The striking costumes, by Manaola, are stunning, with designs that lure you into the dances, with swirls of fabric and typhoons of styles and surely will make you yearn to buy a shirt or a dress with the prints you see. No can do; these are the show’s exclusive, original designs.
4— Traditional “circus” acts — like duos skating and twirling, acrobats teetering on spinning cages, a dude who balances on circular tins that spell potential danger, aerial acrobats without fear of heights – prove that “Wicked” isn’t the only show Defying Gravity; these troupers are awesome, and they complement the ensemble of singers/dancers.
5— I particularly adored “Over the Rainbow,” translated and sung with wizardry and wonderment; the solo singer delivered the Hawaiian lyrics while an artist sketched on an oversized canvas, the huge backdrop where there are changing visuals. The art piece comprised a beautiful colorful rainbow accent at the tune’s finale. This was one of two non-Hawaiian tunes that works in translation.
6— There’s a delightful audience participation instance, utilizing a second borrowed melody, the “Hawaii Five-O” theme song, where gents played invisible drums, trumpet and flute, gleefully projecting the aloha spirit. You want to shout, “Book ‘em, Danno,” in Hawaiian, natch.
7—There’s valid Hawaiian pageantry, beginning with natives navigating the seas, catching fish, and eventual embracing the growth of a visitor industry. In storytelling, there is a beginning, middle, and an ending, and this journey embraces distinctive and indelible memories.
8—One especially engaging stunt involved a chap fixated with an oversized balloon/ball, gets “swallowed” by the sphere, begins to take off his shirt and trousers and tossing them out, yet eventually and methodically bounces himself out from the pliable gizmo. It’s not Hawaiian, but it’s hip!
9— Other modern motifs involved smaller balls, bobbed to and fro, from performers to the observers in the audience. The mood was casual, like beach ball fun, minus the sand. I recall a similar playful interaction in Broadway’s “SpongeBob” musical a couple of years ago, utilizing humongous bounce balls.
10—You don’t mess with Pele, and “‘Auana” bypasses – wisely – any lava reference to avoid controversy. If you watch carefully, however, there is a moment of volcanic action. You don’t need an eruption. Period.
Advisories, if you attend:
Show times: 5:30 and 8:30 p.m. Wednesdays through Sundays.
Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes; there is no intermission.
Tickets: Varies with playdates; call (877) 773-6470. Kamaaina and VIP Experience rates available.
Bathrooms are outside of the showroom, so you should “go” before curtain time.
Once the show starts, audience members should not go up and down stairs or walkways because the dancing/singing cast constantly utilize these steps and hallways in darkness. Safety is assured only if viewers stay put.
Snacks (like caramel popcorn, sold in plastic cups with peel-off covers) and soft drinks and bar drinks like wine don’t come with clip-on covers but should; there are convenient drink holders in the front of your seat. Bottled water comes with caps.
Handicapped service is not defined, at least when I attended. Escalator access is the norm; as a walker user, I had to use elevator service to get to the showroom level; the walker was taken by an attendant at the showroom, after I was seated, and I was told that someone would bring over the walker at the end of the performance; it didn’t happen. Another walker and a wheelchair user had similar issues. We had to wait till the whole room was vacant to retrieve the access needs. Not good…
OK, continuing with our countdown of holiday decorations, now through Christmas day…
No. 18—Gingerbread girls exist, if you didn’t know, and this damsel is at home and feeling Christmasy with a necklace of snowflakes and standing in what is a holiday creamer, with a red checkerboard design and even a handle. Placed some faux flowers in the vessel, for atmosphere. The gingerbread girl can be removed from the ceramic container, but she might be perfectly happy to be where she is. Makes a nice centerpiece on the dinner table.
Frank DeLima’s final Blue Note Hawaii show on Sunday (Dec. 15), celebrating the 50th anniversary of his show biz career as a stand-up comedian, was sentimental, daffy but somewhat predictable.
Sure, he’s outrageously funny, and on this milestone day, he brought along a couple of famous folks — some real, some surreal –to the party.
The most indelible gem was Imelda Marcos, who’d been mothballed for quite a while. DeLima donned costume designer Kathe James’ splendid dress with the characteristic toaster cover sleeves. DeLima’s Imelda ‘do, completed the image, and the dark glasses completed The Looks.
In the comic’s own vivid words when the Filipina figure first attended his show at The Noodle Shop back in the day, “I thought I was looking into a mirror.”
The tune accompanying the Imelda tribute was “What I Did for Love,” magnifying her fidelity to her infamous shoe collection. This salute has been perhaps the most endearing of his characterizations.
DeLima also mimicked the voice and slur of Don Ho, complete with a bad wig, and he’s always sounded like Uncle Don with the foggy memory, with a lifelike repetitive conversation to an assumed visitor, “Where you from?”
Truly, DeLima is at his best as a master of racial accents; the gags are not racist but kind of a fond laugh-with-the ethnic targets, like his creation of Foo Ling Yu, his Chinese TV game host who challenges a contestant to try to answer a multiple-choice-test with an impossible Chinese tongue-twister of a reply.
Then there’s DeLima’s signature “Filipino Christmas” parody, where he dons a costume that’s a lit Christmas tree. The accoutrements, however tattered, are vital because it’s part of the package. But the tree’s looking awfully worn and weary.
And while there are spurts of genuine bliss in his attempt to get folks from the audience to participate in his local-style “12 Days of Christmas,” it takes forever to assemble the right participants to utter the requisite countdown, though he seems to know how to discover a precise visitor dude who can’t remember the routine of “numbah one day of Christmas” and its “one mynah bird in one papaya tree.”
Because his mounting leg/hip problems prohibit him to do “stand-up” comedy any more, DeLima has evolved into a “sit-down” comic with an aide assisting him to get into a costume or out of a pair of shoes. His ardent fans laugh, because it has its hilarity moments, though real hip aches should never be comedic.
Then again, with DeLima, life’s always a laugh and retirement means he’ll spring back in motion, as soon as Jan. 5, with his comedic bros Augie T, Andy Bumatai and Paul Ogata. So the laff riots will continue, retirement or no retirement…