JUPITER — Gimmickry has always been a draw in live entertainment, and never more so than since the COVID-19 pandemic.
People now seem more drawn to things they’ve never seen in person, perhaps to counter the effects of the likes of a virus they’d never experienced (as opposed to the latest music gimmick, tribute act bookings from local to Daryl Hall’s Live From Daryl’s House, proving that listeners seem to now crave only what they’ve already heard).
Mr. Swindle’s Traveling Peculiarium provided the vintage visual elixir for our modern times on March 1. In a large, climate-controlled tent near Carlin Park’s Seabreeze Ampitheater in Jupiter, Bill S. Swindler’s rolling blend of circus-style theatrics, comedy, acrobatics and burlesque entertained a capacity, adults-only crowd drawn by its throwback carnival atmosphere. And the modern lighting and sound only served to accentuate the vintage costumes and stage makeup.
To paraphrase the late, great Prince, the capacity crowd of around 500 people seemed to want to party like it was 1899.
“I’m just the musical entertainment,” said vocalist Amy G. to introduce the show. “Musical foreplay to get you juiced up before the main event.”
She would prove to be much more than that in recurring, varying roles and costumes as both a powerful singer and necessary comic relief. Wearing a matching sequined dress and hat, her foreplay included dancing the Charleston while belting out Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” and inciting the audience to sing along during the chorus.
“Drinking is not only allowed, but encouraged,” she said as punctuation afterward, continuing the adults-only theme.
Emcee Dr. Elixir then introduced the diminutive Chiquito, who effortlessly juggled five balls, then three and five batons, all while executing high degree-of-difficulty series of twists and turns.
Amy G.’s next act would be singing the Italian standard “I (Who Have Nothing)” while dressed as Cinderella. An unsuspecting gentleman seated near the front identified himself as Rich as she flirtatiously sat on his lap, having already cast aside her fur coat and the padding she’d hilariously removed from the bustline of her gown.
“This stage is littered with silicone and beaver,” she quipped. “It’s like Palm Beach up in here.”
Sick Romance, introduced by Dr. Elixir as, “the couple that doesn’t believe in penetration,” was up next. Consisting of a burly gentleman who expertly threw knives and other metal implements, and a scantily clad young lady who flexibly avoided them, the duo drew the most gasps during the overall two-hour show. Him knocking a rose out of her mouth with a whip from 20 feet away only qualified as sado-masochistic foreplay.
Knives and star-shaped weapons with hatchet handles, thrown from 30 feet away, then missed the distaff duo member by six inches or less. The man also shot a balloon held by his brave partner with a crossbow from that distance — all while looking in the opposite direction to line up the angle on his cellphone — and managed not to hit her with any of the thrown weapons while blindfolded, with her lining up his throws with verbal vertical and horizontal guidance beforehand.
Petit Volant, the acrobats Dr. Elixir introduced as a “family of swingers,” recreated the circus tradition of daring trapeze artists through a series of difficult aerial maneuvers to close Act 1.
A 20-minute intermission preceded a slower Act 2. Rich was again targeted by Amy G. during her hilarious Latin song-and-dance number before another male-female duo, What Goes Around, showed what was possible on roller skates within a small, circular platform.
As if the man furiously spinning while holding the woman by one arm and leg, or her hanging onto his neck by only her ankles wasn’t enough, his spin with her balancing her entire body atop his head was what nearly brought the tent down.
Tied Up, the segment in which Dr. Elixir introduced the “Doll of Disbelief,” literally took the proceedings back up a notch. The “doll” was suspended from the ceiling by only her hair, and her double-jointed maneuvers and alien-like visage made believers of the crowd.
Amy G.’s late comic relief included singing the jazz standard “Mad About the Boy.” While seated on the lap of another gentleman on the side opposite her previous exploits, she coyly looked across, waited for the perfect lull in laughter, and asked, “Rich, are you jealous?”
The closing act was Air Berlin, four male German acrobats who impressively raided the air courtesy of a teeter-totter-style long board and their own gravity-defying gymnastic expertise.
Mr. Swindle would make only a brief appearance during early introductions, and again for the finale. Yet his mix of yesteryear vaudeville thematics and risqué modernism is proving to be a gimmick that clicks. And perhaps the setting is the key. In a permanent structure, that mix likely doesn’t occur, making the “Boutique Big Top” tent perhaps the simple key to the entire swindle.
If You Go
Mr. Swindle’s Traveling Peculiarium performs in the Boutique Big Top near Seabreeze Ampitheater in Carlin Park, 750 S. A1A (Jimmy Buffett Memorial Highway), Jupiter.
When: 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays, Thursdays & Fridays; 4:30 and 7:30 p.m. Saturdays, 6 p.m. Sundays through March 23
Tickets: $50-$90
Info: 941-445-7309, www.mrswindles.com