Cirque has knocked me out before ... two years ago, with the mind-bogglingly acrobatic Alegría. But Quidam is a whole other thing. Don't get me wrong. This show has all the thrills you could want. But Quidam is also more cerebral, more plotted, more serious.

Cirque defines quidam (a Latin word) as a "nameless passerby." Here, she is a girl poised on the brink of adolescence, living in a conventional home (two chairs, a hooked rug) with distracted parents (father reads the paper, mother stares into space).

The girl's fantastic dreams soon take over. The genius of Quidam is that so many of its tricks are based on childhood games. Spinning tops here become a heart-stopping juggling act starring four little girls; hula hoops and jump ropes have never been more astonishingly virtuosic.

Please understand, Santa ... this is no mere excuse for acrobatics (though the feats here would by themselves be more than enough). Quidam has a sophisticated and brilliant vision, so much so that many of its pictures evoke master artists (a headless, umbrella-carrying gent recalls Magritte, and the wonderful German Wheel looks like Leonardo's Vitruvian Man). Like much of childhood, it's a little frightening, and the cast includes a sinister team dressed as disposers of toxic waste (these alongside the stunningly costumed circus entertainers). The show is funny, too, with a couple of the most endearing clowns I've ever seen.

As we move along, so does the little girl, who is exploring blossoming sexuality. An aerial contortionist working with a cascade of flowing crimson silk demonstrates this more beautifully than words can convey. Later, a pair of dancers suggests Adam and Eve, and they create a miraculous series of images where two bodies seem as one.

There is so much here, all cunningly aimed for audiences of all ages. The symbolism and haunting iconography (red balloons of all sizes) could have a convention of Freudian critics happily tied up for days. (Please, Santa ... will you keep them there?) On the other hand, kids will be wowed by the sheer spectacle. And everybody falls in love with the ensemble, magnificent creatures who are somehow ageless, even genderless, yet staggeringly attractive.

OK, as I'm writing this, I'm discovering there's no place for me in this magical world. I'll have to be content to see them again (and again). So Santa, will you promise a return visit from Cirque in a year or two? That's Christmas in July, if ever there was one.

(d_fox@citypaper.net)

QUIDAM

Through Aug. 13

Cirque du Soleil,

Grand Chapiteau, Broad St. and Washington Ave.,

800-678-5440,

www.cirquedusoleil.com