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Reviews A Chorus Line Conceived and Originally Choreographed and Directed by Michael Bennett
Reviewed by Sherry Deatrick Entire contents are copyright © 2009 Sherry Deatrick. All rights reserved. Audition: 1 : the power or sense of hearing 2 : the act of hearing; especially : a critical hearing 3 : a trial performance to appraise an entertainer's merits - Merriam Webster
From the Latin word "audire" - The beloved, many Tony award winning A Chorus Line embraces all these meanings. It's about a group of hopeful "gypsies" (Broadway dancers who wander from show to show, never becoming a star) trying out for a part in the chorus of a musical in 1975. We never learn the name of the show. (Wouldn't it be fun if someone wrote that musical as a sequel, and revive the glory days of big dance shows?) Remarkably, it isn't terribly dated, aside from a remark or two about Ed Sullivan and Troy Donahue. Like a demanding drill instructor, choreographer Zach (played on opening night by Derek Hanson) puts the group through their paces on the bare stage, with only a mirror on the back wall. The repetition of his commands is enough to drive anyone insane. "Again...Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch..." "From the top! a-Five, six, seven, eight!" These kids, unlike Latin pupils learning declensions by rote, use their bodies to master the ever increasingly complex routines. It's exhausting to watch them perform the complex routines. After the first cut, 17 dancers are left to compete for 8 slots in the chorus line. Surely you've run into a few people like Cassie in the unemployment line -- a former star who can no longer find work and isn't too proud to start at the bottom again. Or like Maggie ("I really need this job...Please, God, I need this job!...I've got to get this job!"), who never attained her father's love. They're putting it all on the line. This is no ordinary audition. Zach asks increasingly personal questions that make the dancers feel awkward. They sweat bullets, hoping they say the right things. It's sort of like an EST session. Without their dance personae, they are stripped down to the bare essentials. Some fall apart from the ordeal of telling their stories (whether breaking down in tears or tripping on stage). There's a lot going on under these surfaces. Zach keeps probing to get to the core that makes each one an individual. Ironically, he also demands that they move in perfect unison, as one. However this melding together into a new entity cannot be achieved without peeling the onion. The group talks about their early childhoods, teen years, and young adult lives ("Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love," early acting lessons where they learned "Nothing" in inane improvisation classes, and first jobs working in strip or drag clubs. They divulge their darkest secrets and insecurities ("Dance: Ten; Looks; Three"). Zach has his work cut out for him. Now that he has perceived the dancers, he must accept the right eight for the show. He seems truly sad when he must make the final decision. Whitney Hall isn't the best venue for A Chorus Line. On opening night, the sound was muddy. The audience shouldn't have to strain to make out the words. Audience and cast should meet each other halfway. Often, the orchestra drowned out the singers, and many audience members weren't able to hear the lyrics. Enduring this poor sound quality for the two hour show (with no intermission) was almost as exhausting as it must have been for the dancers having to repeat the dance moves over and over. On the other hand, the lighting (originally designed by Tharon Musser, adapted by Natasha Katz) was spectacular. When singled out for questioning, each dancer is bathed in his or her own special light, with a unique "aura" glowing around the body. For example, Cassie (Robyn Hurder) is bathed in a purple aura with a butterfly or angel wing shape around her. Zach doesn't understand why this former "star" wants to be in a chorus line. As you might guess, they were formerly a couple. Perhaps the song you'll be humming as you leave the theatre, "One," is about her...
"One...singular sensation...every little step she takes... You'll leave the show with a deep longing for the days of those great Broadway choreographers, who are sadly no longer with us. And I'll leave you with a quote:
Dance humanizes expression in a way that music cannot.
Lighting credit corrected October 9, 2009
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