The French director and cirque performer James Thiérrée reputedly dislikes being compared to his famous grandfather, Charlie Chaplin. But it’s hard not to wonder what Chaplin would have made of the fragmentary blend of images and skits in Mr. Thiérrée’s newest dance-theater-circus hybrid, “Au Revoir Parapluie” (“Farewell, Umbrella”), now at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.

In the show’s 90 minutes, the troupe of five performs stunts with a giant carousel of spinning gray ropes, a rolling two-story stepladder, and an overhead installation of gargantuan fish hooks. There are nods to old-time vaudeville: bits of slapstick and scratchy old parlor music. But in Mr. Thiérrée’s nouveau cirque, Chaplinesque narrative is gone, replaced by paths of free association. And in lieu of the escalating comedic sequences Chaplin loved, “Au Revoir Parapluie” has collage.

As a result, “Au Revoir Parapluie” is a dreamy, nebulous experience, in which images have far more weight than story. It’s not a comedy, though it’s sprinkled lightly throughout with laughs. Nor is it a scaled-down version of a Cirque du Soleil show, though it boasts some gasp-inducing feats. In the end, this small, elegant novelty registers as a pleasant excursion without a destination.

If there is a unifying theme to “Au Revoir Parapluie,” it is the evanescence of life’s tranquil interludes. Mr. Thiérrée continually interrupts his characters, disconnecting them and sending them spiraling out into new configurations and scenarios. The bits are loosely (very loosely) linked by the Orpheus-like search by the leading man (Mr. Thiérrée) for his perpetually-disappearing beloved.

Much of the show’s charm comes from its five superb performers — Mr. Thiérrée, Satchie Noro, Kaori Ito, Magnus Jakobsson, and Maria Sendow. As is cirque custom, they represent an array of nationalities and silhouettes. But Mr. Thiérrée also casts them as dramatic stock: the Puck-like contortionist, the slapstick clown, the moody singer, the boyish hero, and his elusive girl.

Together they pass through a series of dreamscapes. In the first, they frolic among the rope strands of what seems like the bottom of a giant mop. Then the set changes to that of a sparsely furnished, Old World apartment. Later, they find themselves in a swamp, on a tightrope, and finally in a lopsided, listing circus tent.

Through it all, the anxiety of separation looms large. Yet though the characters are repeatedly scattered to the winds, they are always reunited again, through the workings of a mysterious, at least partially benevolent fate.

Mr. Thiérrée’s style — which blends an overarching sobriety with splashes of innocent whimsy and clowning — is a languorous one. Some may find his habit of interruption maddening. There are moments that feel overly cute and even a little cloying.

Yet these periodic irritants are always followed by floods of beauty. A cascade of badminton birdies, a giant white hat that spins on its own, a chain of leaping turns percolating with energy — these are the satisfactions on offer in the somber yet magical otherworld of “Au Revoir Parapluie.”