Kooza!

I think I just pooped my pants. No, really.

The man running in place atop a rapidly spinning metal wheel high in the air is breathtaking. He stumbles. Hearts stop. Somehow he manages to regain his footing fast enough to keep up with the merciless spinning of the round metal cage, propelled by his partner running inside its twin wheel at the other end of a rotating shaft. Then the man leaps—not once but several times, higher and higher, his body floating weightless for an instant before he plummets to barely catch that wheel and keep running as before.

That's just the opening of the second act of "Kooza," the new Cirque du Soleil spectacle that opened its U.S. tour Friday, November 16th in the company's trademark yellow-and-gold Grand Chapiteau outside AT&T Park. By then, hearts have been stopped so many times and breaths held so long—by daredevil high-wire, trapeze and unicycle acts and anatomy-defying contortionists—it's a wonder we still have the capacity to be thrilled. We do, and are.

The sylph-like contortionists gracefully twist their preternaturally flexible bodies into impossible shapes as they balance on each others' shoulders or hips. A statuesque artist—striking attitudes midway between a dominatrix and a femme fatale—soars, flips and catches herself by ankles or calves on the high-flying trapeze. A Russian duo execute impressive balletic maneuvers on a fleet unicycle.

From Spain comes the astonishing two-tiered high-wire act, four performers working without safety wires and at first without a net as they dance and leapfrog across the wires to Spanish tunes. Fortunately, a net was rigged up by the time one of them slipped and just managed to catch himself by a hand.

The eclectic, propulsive score references the artists' many nationalities in a dynamic mix of American and French pop, jazz, funk, Bollywood and traditional Indian melodies, brightly executed by a sharp band. The warm tones of a vocalist glide sinuously through Côté's melodies.

The thin framework features a guileless Innocent introduced to the circus world by the candy-striped, serpentine Trickster—with some "Sorcerer's Apprentice" repercussions that unleash a comic dance of skeletons and creepy long cape made up of scampering rats. There's a cluelessly bossy King and a deft pickpocket that capably fill some of the other clown roles, with a great deal of audience participation (some will get wet; many will be covered in confetti; one person's chair may have a mind of its own).

There's also magic: wondrous chair balancing, eye-blurring juggling and that gripping Wheel of Death act that's impossible to describe. It's almost too much. The show ran nearly three hours, counting the half-hour intermission. But it's not such a bad thing when one's main criticism is that a show is generous to a fault.

Go see Kooza. Without delay.