Displaying items by tag: A Chorus Line

A CHORUS LINE is one of my all-time favorite shows and, having recently reviewed MadKap / Skokie Theatre’s production of HAIR (and loved it), I arrived at the theatre in a very pleasant state of anticipation. And hey! CHORUS LINE actually exceeded my high expectations!

HAIR is, as everyone knows, a musical; so is CHORUS LINE, but it’s even more a dance production, an added challenge for any company. Short answer: choreographer Susan Pritzker did a phenomenal job. The ensemble dancing was tight and coordinated, with excellent utilization of available space. Set Execution by Scott Richardson and Barry Norton optimized that available space by remembering ‘all that’s really needed is the Music and the Mirror’, and Dance Captain Ben Paynic (who also plays Larry) led them brilliantly. Patti Halajian’s costumes were thoroughly authentic and timeless. And I loved her bio, which informed us that ‘she lives alone in a big, haunted house with her 3 cats and 6 sewing machines, all of which demand her constant attention.’ I personally live with only one of each, and they demand constant attention, so I can’t imagine how Patti manages – but she does, she does!

There are always opening-night glitches in the sound system, but I know Sound Technician Brian Bedoya will have the microphones working perfectly by the next show. And speaking of sound, massive kudos to Music Director Jeremy Ramey and Sound Designer Chris Cook. The musical score is the soul of CHORUS LINE, and this production nurtured that soul so tenderly. Master Electrician Maddy Shilts and Lighting Designer Pat Henderson’s lighting worked beautifully to illuminate the dancing and coordinate it with the music. The cast as a whole was magnificent, and Stage Manager Ayla Sweet excelled in bringing this complex and ambitious work to triumphant fruition.

I saw CHORUS LINE on a Broadway stage way back in the late ‘80’s, but I’ve listened to the soundtrack a hundred times. There were some terrific dramatic scenes that aren’t on the soundtrack, providing lovely moments of ‘I didn’t know (or remember) that!’ I assume most folks are also more familiar with the score than the stage production, so I’ll praise the cast individually via the songs.

We begin with I Hope I Get It, instantly showcasing the creative work of choreographer Pritzker and Director Wayne Mell, with Assistant Miranda Coble. As the actors file onto the stage, they appear to be milling about aimlessly, but actually they’re following complex and very well-thought-out ensemble choreography, setting the ambiance. Casting Director Zach (played by Sean M.G. Caron) introduces the 18 characters by having each step forward with their name, birthplace, and age. Nobody just rattles off the data (these guys are actors remember?), and we get our first sense of each person: e.g. Sheila (Erin Renee Baumrucker) establishes herself as a vamp who’s just turned 30 and is “really happy about it” – yeah.

But Zach wants more, and he begins asking people to relate a bit about themselves, particularly what brought them into dance.  The answering songs alternate between playful and poignant: “I Can do That” by Mike (Tyler Meyer) is followed by the more unsettling And, with Bobby’s (Maddy Shilts) ‘uniqueness’ [read: queerness] getting him abused in school and Richie (Khnemu Menu-Ra) admitting “There ain’t no scholarship to life!”.

Next is my personal favorite: At the Ballet, an exquisite and lyrical song about childhood pain. Sheila (Erin Renee Baumrucker) admits “life with my dad wasn’t ever a picnic”; Bebe (Rae Robeson) insists “different is nice but it sure isn’t pretty”, and Maggie (Emma Drazkowski – who is, incredibly, a new graduate – you go girl!) poignantly recalls “… and I’d say, ‘Daddy I would love to dance’”. All three concur that “I was happy … I was pretty … I would love to” … At the Ballet. My companion and I couldn’t resist lip-syncing along. And Drazkowski’s soaring triune “at the ballet … At the Ballet … At the Ballet!!!” was thrilling! Brava!

Kristine (Madison Jaffe-Richter) and her husband Al (Ben Isabel) [who was brilliant as Margaret Meade in HAIR] warble out Sing, a deadal duet very well executed. Menu-Ra (Richie) launches the company into a wonderfully convoluted performance of Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love. We hear painful adolescent confessions from Greg (Trevor Hendrix) and Mark (Jason Sekili) while Judy (Whitney Marie Wolf) wails “Tits! When am I gonna grow tits?!” Marcela Ossa Gómez performs Diana’s Nothing, and next, who doesn’t love Dance 10: Looks 3? Val (Lili Javorka) dishes up a grand slam.

Tension between Cassie (Sarah Sapperstein) and Zach (Sean M.G. Caron) detonates into Cassie’s pivotal solo, The Music and the Mirror. Sapperstein’s voice was awesome! [more about that later – just let me finish the score]. The initial performance of One was brilliantly choreographed and directed, with sections muted to hear Cassie & Zach talk, then the company returning to full voice.

An accident during the Tap Combination spurs Zach to ask the unforgiveable question: “what will you do when you can no longer dance?” Everyone insists, of course, that they’re always going to dance, but ultimately Diana (Gómez) gets real, and her sublime solo draws the company into the gorgeous What I Did for Love. Finally, the spectacular reprise of One featured the entire company, including Vicki (Elizabeth Bushell), Connie (Madelynn Öztaş), and Don (Chandler Paskett). It was totally splendiferous, and though I noticed Paul’s gold lamé hat slipping down over his eyes, Luis Del Valle never missed a step.

When writing a positive review – and I give CHORUS LINE five stars! – I always look for something to criticize, to provide balance, so here’s my criticisms.

Granted, it’s not easy to find an actor who’s both dancer and diva: when casting Cassie does one choose a dancer who can carry a tune, or a singer who can follow choreography? In Music and the Mirror Sapperstein demonstrated a spectacular set of pipes! but she needed markedly – noticeably! – simplified choreography. Cassie being too good a dancer to dance in a chorus is a key plot point; Music and the Mirror, the only extended solo dance routine of the show, simply doesn’t bear that out. 

An important aspect when displaying any artwork is the frame. In dance, one speaks of the danseur providing a frame for the ballerina; his lifts can make her appear weightless or like a sack of groceries. One must select the proper frame to enhance a beautiful photograph or painting: using a sleek polished chrome frame for an ornate neoclassical painting creates an aesthetic disharmony – a marvelous frame mismatched with magnificent artwork. Zach’s essential role in CHORUS LINE is to frame the work, but I experienced aesthetic disparity between Caron and A CHORUS LINE – a splendid artwork enclosed in a pleasing but disharmonic frame. On the soundtrack I love Zach’s exultant peals of “Five, Six, Seven, Eight!”, proclaiming his passion for music, for dance, for theatre. This passion is critical to Zach’s character, and to the spirit of the show, and I simply did not feel that passion from Caron’s Zach.  This stellar production deserves a concordant frame.

I love CHORUS LINE, and (above paragraphs notwithstanding) I love MadKap’s production of it – I will keep a close eye out for MadKap / Skokie productions!

A CHORUS LINE runs at Skokie Theatre through the weekend of October 8 – a nice long run – leaves you no excuse not to see it!

VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

*Author note: I could not have written this review – nor most of those preceding! – without the knowledgeable and insightful help of my companion Eva Hare. Their encyclopedic cognizance of the modus operandi (as well as modus vivendi!) backstage has enriched my life as well as my reviews.

A CHORUS LINE  originally conceived, directed, and choreographed by Michael Bennett, 1975. Book by James Kirkwood and Nicholas Dante. Music by Marvin Hamlisch. Lyrics by Edward Kleban. Co-choreographed by Bob Avian.

Like most things in our lives, what once was old can be new again (looking at you wannabe fanny packs). But some things can stand the test of time and find a resurgence, not to be duplicated but merely rediscovered by a new generation. A Chorus Line, now playing at the Drury Theatre, is just the thing that proves that, without duplication or manipulation, the themes exuded throughout the musical and its numbers speak across generations and stand the test of time and political correctness.

In A Chorus Line, hundreds of hopefuls congregate at a cattle call for Broadway dancers. A sour director and his assistant whittle down the ranks until they're left with 16 dancers (“head up, headband!”). All tell their life stories -- some tragic, some comic -- and explain their love of dance. Tension mounts when Cassie, once both a big star and the director's lover but now desperate for a part, auditions. But Zach must choose only the best for his show.

So what is it about A Chorus Line that gives it such staying power?

Maybe it’s the relateability of putting yourself on the line; working for years and years for a single moment, a single audition. The opening sequence of the musical “I Hope I Get It,” performed by the ensemble cast, brings the audience into the electrifying, heartpounding, anxiety-inducing audition. Aren't we all auditioning for the chorus? From job interviews to dating, we are always putting our best foot forward hoping against all the odds someone chooses us. We can prepare for years, memorize the steps, not miss a single beat, and still not get the part. With each hopeful cast member singing “I really need this job. Please God, I need this job. I've got to get this job,” resonates throughout the audience, and hits hard no matter the decade.

Perhaps it's the theme of understanding where you have come from to accept where you are today, no matter your background. As Zach interviews the cast, we begin to learn about the backgrounds of each hopeful auditioner, as they recall hilarious experiences and share embarrassing details such as “I really couldn't – Sing! I could never really – Sing! What I couldn't do was– Sing!” While recounting where they were, we learn that everyone on that stage dreamed of something bigger than them and we see an homage to youth and overcoming those awkward and challening years with "Hello twelve, hello thirteen, hello love!” Nostaligia can be sweet and innocent or bitter and sad, but they are our formative years. The number really highlights the humor, awkwardness, and tribulations of youth and celebrates it as the necessary path toward becoming who we are today.

It could be the relatability of fighting imposter syndrome, believing that you aren’t good enough. Or when we’re slowly unmasking, realizing you were being encouraged andpushed towards a life and dream that you didn’t really want. When Cassie takes the stage and expresses her only love was not to be a star but to dance, and as she dances her heart out in “The Music and the Mirror” we feel every kick, every headsnap, every spirit finger of emotion. For a single moment we’re all Cassie, wanting to just do what we love without fear, or judgement, or interpretation. To just dance and be allowed the freedom and autonomy to do just that.

For me, it’s the simple honesty of knowing that you tried; regardless of the outcome and if you never truly make it, at least you put yourself out there, and tried. “What I Did for Love” is the perfect balance of bittersweet gratitude, not regretting what you did in pursuit of a dream. It’s this theme that is the most prominent throughout the musical from the opening audition to the closing, glittering kick line.

Drury Lane is quickly becoming my favorite theatre in the Chicagoland area. It continues to deliver incredible performances under the glittering chandeliers of their venue and their 2023 line up is sure to draw even more suburban theater goers to Oak Brook instead of Chicago. A Chorus Line runs through March 19th, get your tickets today at https://drurylanetheatre.com/a-chorus-line/.

The first time I saw ‘A Chorus Line’ was when I worked backstage for a touring production while I was in college. Perhaps it was my youth, or perhaps it was the fact that I was in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the fit and fabulous cast, but at the time, the show struck me as one of optimism and youthful energy. But all these years later, Porchlight Theatre’s current — and fantastic — production Michael Bennett’s classic look at the often-anonymous dancers on Broadway’s stages held a much different meaning for me. Instead of just being wowed by the performers’ talents, I really understood their pain and the lives they’ve lived on said stages — in the words of the number “At the Ballet”: “It wasn’t paradise, but it was home.”

I realized that part of that is the brilliance of the show, itself — that it acts every bit as its famed mirror backdrop, reflecting the audience members’ experiences and baggage back at them. But this depth also comes from this brilliant cast and their brilliant performances brilliantly directed by Brenda Didier. Of course, the talent is youthful and top-notch, as it must be for such a classic show. Christopher Chase Carter’s choreography populates the stage and pleases the eye, while the music propels things, thanks to Linda Madonia’s direction. Matthew Weidenbener gets things going with Mike’s Vaudevillian number, “I Can Do That.” Ayana Strutz’s Connie Wong confidently struts and fills the stage despite her diminutive stature. Terrell Armstrong’s Richie wows with his acrobatic dancing. While the show’s one about dancers, not singers, much of the cast has pipes aplenty — Taylor Lane and Aalon Smith’s vocals stood out, and Grant Carriker’s and Chloe Nadon-Enriquez’s married duet “Sing!” was flawless (although Nadon-Enriquez’s Kristine is not supposed to be able to sing). As far as vocals go, Adrienne Velasco-Storrs’ Diana got the show’s two big opportunities to sing — Marvin Hamlisch’s standards “Nothing” and “What I Did for Love” showed that she can sing and brought the house down, as they’re supposed to do.

But, again, it was the sadness, the weariness, and the experience that shone through to this weary and experienced version of me who attended this version of ‘A Chorus Line,’ and that was as much thanks to the performers’ take on the material as the material itself. Of course, Paul’s iconic monologue, here delivered with all the feeling one would expect by Alejandro Fonseca, manufactures emotion. But Erica Evans’ world-weary Sheila, looking for one last shot on the line, provides those same feels from start to finish; I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Natalie Welch’s Val also draws the eye, even before her showstopper “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three,” although Welch’s age is a bit on the young side for the veteran Val. But while Val’s at last got the “it” she needed to succeed and Sheila laments the “it” that once made her successful, both of these actresses definitely have “it.”

But the real It Girl in this show is Laura Savage’s Cassie. The red dress draws the eye, of course, as does her constant backstory back-and-forth with director Zach, given both authority and empathy by Richard Strimer. But it’s the mix of confidence and brokenness that Savage brings to the role that did it. Only after the show did I learn that Savage, during last year’s Marriott Theatre production of Newsies in which she dazzled with her dancing, seriously injured herself, and has only at last recovered enough to lead this production. But lead it she does, shining as the starlet who’s looking to start back at the beginning, and who’s looking at herself in that mirror she sings about. And it is Savage’s Cassie, I guess, that spoke to me the loudest and most longingly, that gave this show the depth it was meant to have, and that most brightly shined, to myself and the rest of the audience, during this breathless, breathtaking, and unbeatable take on a timeless Broadway tale.

Through May 31st at Ruth Page Center for the Arts.