Traces (Broadway in Chicago) John Taflan

Alright everyone, listen up: Put away your elephants and your clown cars. Turn off all that stupid Cirque de Soleil crap and pay attention. From now on, there’s only one kind of circus, and that circus is “Traces.” That’s it.

What’s that you’re saying? You’re gonna miss all that lion taming and organ music and shit? Well, shut the fuck up. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Unless you’ve seen “Traces,” you have no idea how great circus can be. “Traces” rocked my fucking face off. This thing’s like getting Kathy Ireland in the sack and finding out she’s got three tits. It’s that good. And the thing’s been around for like, TEN YEARS, too! Did you know that? Cause I didn’t know that. That’s right my friends, those other fucking circuses knew about it and they didn’t tell us. Can you believe that horseshit? Why the fuck were they hiding it?!

You know what? It doesn’t even matter, now. That’s the past. The future is “Traces” which is so fucking spectacular that I think I need to go see a goddamn specialist or something. Seriously. Get me some heavy shoes or a levitating sidewalk ‘cause I’m walking on air, here. Fuck.

Seriously, you’re still reading this? You haven’t even bought your ticket yet, have you? Alright asshole, why haven’t you done that shit? I just told you it was the best. What, you don’t fucking believe me? Why would I lie? I said its great, so the thing is fucking incredible, ok? Christ. Oh, I get it…you’re one of them. Fine.

So, there’s six dudes and a chick and they’re all built. They come out onto this kick-ass looking stage that’s got chairs and poles and a piano and shit. And they just start doing some of the craziest shit I have ever seen. There’s this one part, where these two guys are on the poles and they start BACK-FLIPPING back and forth between them. AT THE SAME TIME. Then, two other guys get in on this back-flipping thing. And then, all six of the dudes are flipping all over the poles like they’re on fire, or something. Then the chick gets up on that pole-flipping, and everyone is flipping and going nuts. And then, they all get skateboards and—I am not making this shit up—they start skateboarding like they’re in some old musical with tuxes and hilarious shaking and then they’re jumping from board to board and going under and over each other. What the fuck, man? I could barely stay in my seat! I smiled so hard I’m going to have to frown for three days straight just to even it out.

Oh, and get this: At the start of the show, there’s this microphone that comes down in the middle of the stage and these guys just start talking to us. Just like we’ve all known each other for years. Like, these are just your cool friends who do acrobatics and play music and shit.

“Oh hey, Florian. How’s it going?”

“Oh, pretty good. You mind if I just start balancing on a stack of chairs using only my head?”

“Yeah sure, man. Whatever you want to do. I’ll just chill out here until you’re done.” And then he does it.

And at the end, they get this huge stack of rings and they start diving through them at the same time and they’re this close to missing each other and then they’re diving through in different ways: Feet first, head first, sideways. You’d think I’d be worried about spoiling it for you by giving all this away, but you’re dead fucking wrong. This shit is so mind-blowing that nothing I could write here could even come close to describing how good it is.

Look, just go buy your ticket. Go fucking see “Traces.”

A+