Friday, April 15, 2005 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

Clowning Around

Former 'O' performers have come full circle as their 'Aga-Boom' returns to a Vegas casino

"We're normal people," Dimitri Bogatirev, right, says of the offstage life of a clown. "Some comedians, they want to be funny all the time." He and Iryna Ivanytska and their son Anton are three of the five clowns performing in "Aga-Boom." Photo by M ike Weatherford While many U.S. clowns have toned down the makeup so it won't scare children, the "Aga-Boom" family wants to give clowns the celebrity they have in Europe.

Like many youngsters, Iryna Ivanytska had a phobia of clowns.

"I didn't like them, I couldn't stand them, I was afraid. At the circus, I closed my eyes," she says.

But Ivanytska grew up to don the red nose herself. "Some people are calling us a different breed of clown," she says.

"Before our show a lot of people (said) `Oh, clowns, I hate them.' During our show they start to feel something different," says her husband and stage partner, Dimitri Bogatirev.

Much as Cirque du Soleil took a few years to spread the news that it wasn't the circus you grew up with, the married Cirque alumni are trying to sway our love-hate relationship with clowns in "Aga-Boom."

The Las Vegas couple left "O" to try their own entrepreneurial effort, which had well-reviewed runs in Los Angeles and New York and makes its local casino debut this week at the Suncoast.

The earliest version of "Aga-Boom" tested in local library auditoriums in September 2002. "Now we can come back to Las Vegas and try again," Bogatirev says. "We're local people."

"... From Ukraine," his wife adds with a smile.

The two speak heavily accented English, but make no bones about the fact that they'd like to spend more time working near the house they're buying in Desert Shores. Their 9-year-old son, Anton, also performs with the five-person troupe as "Mini-Boom."

"When kids see a kid can be a clown and can be funny, they respect us," his father says. "They are on the same level with us so they feel they understand us."

"Aga-Boom" has more in common with the Blue Man Group than Ringling Bros., down to a finale that pulls the audience into chaotic fun with paper -- the show's name is a play on the Russian word for paper, boomaga -- confetti and plastic trash bags.

But the couple and their producer, Michael Zalk, realize they can't take this act straight to a Cirque-saturated Strip. "For clowns to possibly go on the Strip, I think we're now looking for the round trip" via the suburban casinos, says Bogatirev.

"The formula is, `Grandma, take me into the casino, I want to see "Aga-Boom." ' Who spends the most money in locals casinos? The grandmas."

Just as Cirque drew beyond Ringling Bros. for more theatrical inspiration, the Ukranian couple introduces U.S. audiences to a more European view of physical comedy.

"For American audiences, it's low art. Very low art," Bogatirev acknowledges. "Cirque du Soleil uses Russian clowns because in Russia, we have pantomime, which is very popular. Mimes become clowns, because pantomime was not as exciting."

Growing up in Odessa, Bogatirev trained as an illustrator and art instructor with an eye toward becoming a cartoon animator. But then he was introduced to mime, and realized people could "understand me faster than if I draw what I'm doing," and that he could communicate the same comic ideas without spending "six months to build a 10-minute cartoon."

Iryna first saw him onstage in clown makeup, fell for him and then was "very afraid to see him without makeup."

He also remembers seeing her in three different shows before meeting her. One was a serious patriotic show in which she portrayed fire in mime. "He didn't like the play, but he remembered me," she recalls with a laugh.

"The third time, he saw me as a clown and it was final."

The two began performing together in 1992, and opened "O" at the Bellagio in late 1998 after touring in Cirque's "Alegria." In an epic of technical and acrobatic wonders, the clowns provided comic relief and even a literal connection to the audience; they pulled a hapless crowd member into their floating iceberg skit each night.

"Our first volunteer was Quincy Jones," Bogatirev recalls.

"He wasn't exactly a volunteer," his wife adds with a laugh.

In their daily life in Las Vegas, it seems like everyone they run into -- the dentist, the guy handling their car insurance -- will tell them, "You took me onto the iceberg."

Now that they're outside the Cirque infrastructure, the couple hopes a lot of past victims will turn up to support their new venture. Horror movies have corrupted the reputation of clowns, Bogatirev notes. "The clown became a monster and part of a cheap meal, like fast food."

He hopes "Aga-Boom" audiences will discover that its stars are more like Charlie Chaplin's tramp character: a consistent personality who isn't trying to be funny the whole time, but who gets into funny situations.

If they can convey that message, they envision the future of another American icon -- who isn't Ronald McDonald.

"If the audience loves us, they will keep watching us and watching us, like Mickey Mouse," he says. "You know, you can watch any cartoon with Mickey Mouse, thousands of hours."