Over-produced, over-long, over-priced and over here, Cirque du Soleil proves yet again why it is the only circus that I have ever wanted to run away from.
Every January heralds rain and seasonal affective disorder, and it also heralds the arrival of the Canadian circus for its annual London residency. It really is one hell of a feat to transform the daring, drama and dreams of the circus ring into nice, clean, sawdust-free corporate entertainment for those who would really rather be sipping champagne in the bar rather than watching very small people jump through hoops. It looks like a million dollars, even as it drains the soul.
There is no denying that Dralion is the most remarkable piece of eye candy. It is like a child's fantasy of fairytale China crossed with set that appears to have wandered out of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The performers cavort on the climbing wall cum mother ship, while a glowing ring is raised and lowered like some huge halo that encircles each daring feat.
Chinese dragons dance nimbly across the playing area. When things threaten to pall, the producers toss a cute kid, more dry ice or few twinkling lights or lanterns on the pyre of light entertainment.
For years now circus has been trying to persuade us that it is art, not just stunts, but Cirque du Soleil set the cause back by decades.
As ever with this company, it is all window-dressing, the real feats of skill - some truly fantastic - seem almost incidental to the glittery costumes, the Europop soundtrack and the lighting effects. Even when someone is doing something totally terrifying that has taken him or her years of hard graft to master, bits of the set wobble around or people strike distracting balletic poses. It is as if they don't actually want you to notice that there is skill and bravery involved.
Cirque du Soleil describes itself as "the most spectacular and popular theatrical phenomenon on the planet." If that's true, I must be living on Mars.
· Until March 8. Box office: 020 7838 3122
