Circus Performers

Fourteen members of a Soviet circus that collapsed in debt during a U.S. tour applied for political asylum here Wednesday. The members of the Great Circus Bim Bom--nine adults and five children--make up the largest single asylum application in the Atlanta office's history, according to immigration officials. The application process could take up to 90 days, but work permits were issued to the Soviets on Wednesday.

"Everybody wants to sleep under the sky, outside, once in their life; the night sky seems endless, and it's a starting point of reflection where you try to be connected with other people." That's Jeannot Painchaud, artistic director for Cirque Eloize, explaining the opening scene for "Nomade."

They're all here, long-limbed ladies and lion-tamers, trapeze artists and tightrope walkers, clowns, elephants, acrobats and death-defying daredevils. But organizers of the first venture outside North America by the "Greatest Show on Earth," the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, have some pre-opening jitters--will Japanese crowds show up?

The circus came to town Tuesday, and a few local kids snuck into the tent to get a peek at the original "Greatest Show on Earth." Actually, this being 1987, the kids snuck into the parking lot of the Anaheim Convention Center. And, again, this being 1987, when the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus arrived in Anaheim, it actually had to rent a tent to pitch over its tigers and horses in the parking lot.

With the same mournful, love-starved eyes that implored Ruth Gordon 25 years ago in the cult film "Harold and Maude," Bud Cort emits otherworldliness--he looks like a kind alien. He also happens to make a lovely philosopher-clown, which he plays, memorably, in "He Who Gets Slapped," Leonid Andreyev's allegory about a troupe of circus performers, now at the Hudson Backstage Theatre in Hollywood.

With so many circuses trying to be more theatrical nowadays, it only makes sense that one of them is cementing the connection by imagining what might happen if a circus and a theatrical troupe were booked into the same venue on the same night. That's the premise of "Oops!," the Big Apple Circus' attempt to make itself more widely known by touring a show that can play in theaters instead of a big top.

The circus. Three rings of total wonder. Tigers jumping through hoops, trapeze artists flying through the air, dozens of clowns scampering about, elephants on parade, lavish costumes, a blaring brass band, cannons hurling daredevils toward a distant net. And, drawing the multitude's attention from one marvel to another, that silver-tongued champion of hyperbole, the ringmaster. Then, there's the Pickle Family Circus. One ring. A few clowns, jugglers and acrobats. A woman on the trapeze.

A bold and familiar voice blared over a loud speaker at the San Diego Sports Arena on Tuesday night. "Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, producer Kenneth Feld is proud to present the 117th edition of The Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus, the Greatest Show on Earth." Ringmaster Eric Michael Gillette had spoken, cuing the 15-piece band to strike up "Come and Join Our Family."

The 122nd incarnation of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus rolled into San Diego Wednesday night. Excuse me--the all-new 122nd edition of the circus pitched its tent this week at the San Diego Sports Arena for a five-day, 10-performance run that began Wednesday. Despite the advertised freshness, this is a pretty stale show. Clowns labor through their familiar routines with precision, Spandex-clad acrobats manufacture smiles as they leap and jump and yell "Hup!"