Two months into its indefinite booking in Waikiki, "Cirque Hawaii" has settled into a two-a-night performance schedule. This month it also offers two-for-one prices to island residents.

The kama'aina deal may be just what it takes to bring in a local audience.

Understand that the "Hawai'i" half of the company name is valid only as far as its Seaside Avenue location, and that the occasional plastic lei and grass skirt in the company tableau would be better omitted — even in a venue where authenticity does not rank high.

But any local audience can otherwise appreciate a good circus. And the best way to enjoy any circus is to give in to childlike wonder and delight at its physical spectacle. "Cirque Hawaii" has refitted the former IMAX theatre with a 70-foot-tall staging apparatus that brings a remarkably three-dimensional performance to a space designed for a large flat screen.

Director Mathieu Laplante and choreographer Vital Germaine make good use of the original width and add a projecting center section that brings the action to all of the nearly 500 seats. Add stadium seating and you'll understand that, with its cast of more than 30 performers, "Cirque Hawaii" might be considered an "intimate" spectacle.

Traditional circuses have never needed to tell a story, but this new-age variety often adds a narrative line to give some continuity to the acts.

"Cirque Hawaii" attempts this with Josephine, a giant clown character who uses a glass ball and an umbrella to connect the dots between bungee jumpers, acrobats and trapeze acts.

For all practical purposes Josephine could go the same way as the plastic plumeria.

Much better at offering continuity is physical comedian Valery Serebryakov Jr., who brings a change of pace and gets good laughs from attempting — and ridiculously failing — the same routines that happen so effortlessly in the rest of the show. The bit where he tries to reach a trapeze by standing on his partner's head is an absolute, unqualified delight.

The show's magic act — called Transformation — is also a crowd-pleaser. The Russian team of Pavel and Natalea Karima offer a head-scratching "how did they do that?" routine in which Natalea performs split-second costume changes — appearing in a different outfit in the space of a finger snap.

Among the remarkable specialty acts are a troupe that works the "Russian bar," requiring a combination of balance beam and trampoline skills, teamwork and dedicated focus.

The "Mongolian Angels" look like identical twins and execute stunning aerial acrobatics. Yuri Ryzhkov makes flying from white silks seem effortless. And Ganchimeg Oyunchimeg, a contortionist, creates jaw-dropping body pretzels.

The show concludes with a spirited display of gymnastic rope jumping, by a gang of roustabouts that finally gets to play in the center spotlight.

The final layer of make-up, costumes, music and theatricality makes for a fast-moving 90 minutes.