Three weeks before opening night, director Amy Tinkham is at centre ring, working intently with a woman who will be lifted by her hair and twirl overhead seconds before motorcycles zip underneath her. That’s supposed to happen just as an acrobat launches himself from an oversized swing high into a waiting net.
The hair woman — 34-year-old Andrea Raffo, the wife of the tiger tamer — has to be hoisted by a rope attached to her flowing locks at just the right instant so she doesn’t get splattered by the speeding motorcycles. Right after that come the elephants, galloping horses, guys on stilts, dancers, goats riding on little ponies, clowns and the rest of the Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey Circus.
This carefully choreographed chaos, accompanied by uproarious music, is crammed into the opening minutes of the venerable Greatest Show on Earth, the 138th incarnation of which will be playing to around 5 million people in 84 US cities during the next two years.
But before customers get to see the new two-hour extravaganza, it has to be organised, developed, massaged, manipulated, and perfected during six weeks of intense rehearsals in Tampa.
Starting the day after Thanksgiving Day in November, an international assortment of performers came together for 40 days under the tutelage of the 44-year-old Tinkham, a sought-after choreographer and director who has worked with Madonna, Britney Spears and Aerosmith, just to name a few.
This, however, is her first time working with animals and a bunch of performers who don’t speak English, not to mention the real risk of getting somebody seriously hurt if the timing isn’t exactly right.
“It’s really crazy fun,” insists the tall, pretty blonde.
To get ready for Tampa, Tinkham says she watched videos of the performers and used toys to rough out the show on her dining room table last summer. Her children — ages 9, 4 and 18 months — were an eager focus group.
The performers are a virtual United Nations, hailing from 15 nations. Acrobats from China, motorcycle daredevils from Paraguay, dancers from Brazil.
“Good morning, greatest show on earth!” Stephenson says.
Three weeks later, on opening night in a Tampa hockey arena, Tinkham watches from the stands like a proud mama, as Raffo is lifted by her hair at just the right moment, the motorcyles roar past and all the performers stay out of each other’s way during the opening number that is way more colorful, sparkly and bombastic than in rehearsals.
“It was overwhelming,” she says.