Let’s do a little stretching exercise. I want you to stand in front of a wall, facing away from the wall, and raise your arms above your head. Got it? Hold it there for a second. Pretty much everyone can do this.

Now bend back and place your hands flat against the wall, fingers pointing to the floor. The top of your head is probably resting on the wall, and you’re looking at the ceiling. Even those of us who know what Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy is (without Googling it) can do this, though we won’t be in this position for long.

Now I want you to continue bending backward until your hands are flat against the floor, and you are staring at the wall. Unless you are the star of your yoga class, have a few vertebrae missing, or will be working out this summer in Colorado Springs with the US Gymnastics team, you’ve probably given up by now. But wait, there’s more.

Now pull your head forward, past your arms and between your legs. You should be staring at the floor, assuming you haven’t yet passed out. But we’re not through. Now raise your legs a few inches off the ground, leaving all the weight on your hands, with the rest of your body sort of hanging in mid-air. That’s pretty incredible.

So you’re holding that pose, and just for the heck of it, get someone about your size (maybe a twin) and have them assume the same pose. Only their hands are not on the floor. They’re on your stomach, or at least where your stomach used to be, before you contorted into a human pretzel. This is Cirque du Soleil, which is French for “High Priced Circus of Really Bendy People.”

For years I have heard people extol the virtues of Cirque du Soleil, that it was a “must-see” if you go to Las Vegas or when it passes through Houston. So when the opportunity came to see Cirque du Soleil: Alegria at Toyota Center, we just could not pass it up. The two-hour show is an amalgam of contortionists, gymnastics, ballet, a flying trapeze, a trampoline, and of course, clowns.

Alegría is a Cirque du Soleil classic that has entertained more than 10 million people worldwide since its world premiere in Montreal in 1994. It includes 55 performers and musicians from 17 countries.

Is it enjoyable? Well, you’ll definitely be talking about the show afterward: “I couldn’t tell if she was bending forward or backwards, or what body parts belonged to who” and “How did the guy in the ring not vomit?”.

But there is a lot of filler in those two hours, including a good amount of running about, posing, and clown humor. French Canadian clown humor. Which is, in my book, one step above a mime. And is certainly better than the Dramatic Sad Clown with a Dear John Letter Interlude.

Alegria is playing in Houston at Toyota Center through Sunday, November 14. Tickets range from $40 to $126. You probably have to see it once in your lifetime. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but an endorsement nonetheless.