Let’s be up front for a moment: for the average person, an evening*at Teatro ZinZanni is something of an investment. Tickets range from $106-141, and while that includes a five-course meal, it doesn’t include your bar tab, gratuity, or the $10 per guest “dining room service charge.” And since no photography is allowed inside ZinZanni’s elaborate, romantically-lit Spiegeltent, it’ll set you back another $20 if you want a photo to remember the occasion.
Then again, ZinZanni is pretty memorable all on its own—and if you take the time to crunch the numbers, all that food plus the three-and-a-half hour accompanying show starts to look like kind of a solid deal. Bonus: how many other places in town is it not only acceptable but encouraged to don a feather boa while dining?
Teatro ZinZanni serves up at least three shows a year, and its current offering is a nod to—what else?—Seattle, circa 1962. Apparently something special happened that year, or something. In Return to Paradise, which opened last month and runs through January 27, 2013, the icons of Seattle’s past are on display: there’s a bit of Bruce Lee, a dose of Jimi Hendrix, and whole hunk of burning love in the form of the World’s Fair’s most famous visitor, a rockin’ Southern boy by the name of Elvis Presley. Their stories get intertwined in an alternate-universe depiction of 1962, hosted by the show’s true star: the ridiculously charismatic Christine Deaver, as Seattle burlesque nightclub owner Gracie Hansen. Deaver’s personality oozes into every inch of the tent when she takes the spotlight, in over-the-top—but completely fantastic—sequined dresses that probably share a relative with a disco mirror ball somewhere. Her snappy storytelling and quick wit can keep a crowd in stitches, even when delivering those often cheesy (but usually endearing) ZinZanni zingers. By the time she begins snatching up audience members for hilarious participatory sketches, everyone is in such a great mood that even those being playfully teased are all smiles.
Of course, the food and libations help set the happy scene. Each person receives the same appetizer, soup, salad, and dessert courses, but diners have a choice of beef tenderloin, apple-ginger glazed halibut, or stuffed acorn squash for their entrée. A full dinner menu can be found online, and so can the booze selection—which is, arguably, the most fun of the mealtime selections. Dinner is heightened by an optional $36 wine flight, with five 2.5-ounce pours carefully chosen to complement each course, and the laughs come quicker with a specialty cocktail, or four. (Try the gin-based Ray Gun if you like a cocktail with kick, or the Purple Haze if you want to go down a dangerously smooth route that features mouth-watering mint-infused rum and blackberry syrup.)
But there’s a serious risk, with at least a couple of the acts in Return to Paradise, of your food getting cold or going uneaten. Something about the hypnotic, erotic “vertical tango” performed by husband-and-wife duo and former Cirque du Soleil Saltimbanco performers Sam Payne and Sandra Feusi is enough to make a diner drop their fork in favor of gaping at the two performers sensually reaching for each other as they twist, turn, and climb up and down a pole in the center of the tent. There’s also Cirque performer Ling Rui (Dralion, Delirium) with his breathtaking flying on the aerial silks, and the impressively-muscled Christopher Phi, aka: Bruce Lee, whose carefully-controlled hand balancing act blends physical grace with stunning strength and agility. (Phi previously performed as part of Le Rêve, the Franco Dragone aquatic spectacle in residence at the Wynn Las Vegas.)
Also entertaining is“Big” Mike Geier as Elvis—in a gold lamé suit, of course. 1962 happened a handful of years after Elvis made that particular fashion statement, but diehard fans of The King will have to forgive any liberties Return to Paradise takes with the Presley chronology; the show also features Elvis’ wedding to Priscilla (performed by Elena Gatilova, who looked like a beautifully glittery Christmas ornament as she tucked herself in and out of the aerial hoop), which didn’t happen ‘til 1967. And following the vows, there was the spirited singing of “Burning Love,” which wasn’t recorded ‘til 1972. But what do facts really matter in ZinZanni’s campy spectacle? Really, not very much. The plot of Return to Paradise exists, for basic narrative’s sake, but it’s hardly consequential. Most of the individual acts stand on their own, and the few that don’t—well, chances are you’ll be too focused on that latest round of food and drinks to pay much mind to the missteps.
*Teatro ZinZanni also offers a handful of shorter 11:30 a.m. matinee performances of Return to Paradise, running two-and-a-half hours and serving four courses. Prices start at $76, but ZinZanni also offers discounts to these performances for seniors/military ($59) and youth/students ($50). For more information, visit http://dreams.zinzanni.org/matinee.htm.