Breaking the Ice

Too bad reality TV wasn't around to document this extreme makeover.

The new show "Ice: Direct from Russia" bears a distinct resemblance to the "Russian Ice Spectacular" that's played in overseas resort meccas for years. But locals who don't get to Malaysia all that often are more likely to be reminded of Cirque du Soleil.

The entire ice revue has been reworked by director Debra Brown, who spent years with Cirque and whose choreography still is on display in "O" and "Mystere."

Producer Sergey Ryshkoff has been instrumental in the Russian ice circus since it was under the wing of the Soviet Union, and spun off the country's first independent circus in 1993. But when the show became the leading candidate to replace the Riviera's long-running "Splash," which closed last October, Ryshkoff invited Brown to take a look at it.

And how can Brown -- who exudes more charm and positivity than most people you'll meet -- politely describe what she saw?

"I felt like it had some interesting elements, but ... " she says, choosing her words carefully, "I felt like I had already traveled there 20 years ago in terms of costumes and makeup and the structure of it. It was very circusy. Old circus, you could say."

Parts of it intrigued her; combinations of skating and aerial acrobatics "where the blend of ice and air was quite unique," she says. "I'd never seen that."

But something else grabbed her. "It was the eyes of the artists that did it."

Many of the original costumes came with masks. The clowns actually wore funny red noses. When Brown went backstage to visit the cast, "they took off their masks and they were so beautiful, that's what inspired me."

The U.S. production liaison is Tom Pilkington, who spent years as a director of entertainment and special events at Caesars Palace. He says most of the 30 performers had never seen Las Vegas until their first bus ride down the Strip a month ago. They looked like "deer in the headlights" on a field trip to see "Ka."

Brown agrees the performers exude "a sincerity and innocence," even though "they are very sexy. ... That's been guiding us," she adds, trying to capture the excitement of "when love is innocent and passionate."

"Ice" is a full circle for Brown, who came to Las Vegas with the Strip's first Cirque du Soleil, "Nouvelle Experience," in 1992. She parted company with Cirque during the chaotic creation process for "Zumanity" in 2003 and now is learning what it feels like to go into competition with the juggernaut Cirque has become.

"Now we're off-Broadway," she says with a laugh. "It's a different experience for sure."

Budgets are relative, and "Ice" wouldn't seem as modest if not for Cirque's $100 million-plus productions. It's certainly a big step up from "Splash." The 52-by-44-foot ice surface reaches into the former backstage area. A 100-foot half-circle of icy track extends into the showroom, wrapping a section of audience seating. The Riviera's vintage showroom also has been outfitted with new sound and video projection equipment.

"A friend of mine once told me that limitation is freedom," Brown says. She explains the contradiction: Defined limits make the mission "really clear and you know your boundaries." For instance, the use of recorded music -- everything from familiar Pink Floyd to obscure bands such as Blue Nile -- allows her to "dream bigger and further. I've never looked into so much music in my whole life."

Ryshkoff's central idea is unchanged: Most of what you see in a normal circus is done here as well, from juggling to one person's handstand upon another, except that everything is done on skates. Brown's work is changing the context that frames them, with hallmark transitions that should be familiar to Cirque fans.

Characters spring from the ensemble of one number to be the focal point of the next: A skating violinist (Oleg Danolov) who emerges from a comic trio, a young man (Alexy Polivanov) who does handstands on braced arm stilts is taunted by a trio of temptresses, one of whom (Elena Shpagina) later steps out for a hoop-twirling routine.

An Ontario native, Brown was a childhood gymnast who was choreographing floor routines by the time she was in high school. Even before hooking up with Cirque, "I was creating pieces on walls and chairs," athletic hybrids of dance and acrobatics.

"I think it's just communication," she says. "What I like about it is finding a way to use the skills of acrobats that are normally there to present a dynamic feat, and just present a different color so you can feel in an emotional sense. I remember when I began to ask myself, 'Can an acrobat make me feel joy or emotion?' "

"Ice" is just another step in combining the disciplines. "That's what it is, it's the blend of the air and the ice. And the blend of the acrobatic world with the ice. Once you install certain disciplines, then you can continue the lifelong journey to feed this blend."