A CHORUS LINE
A CHORUS LINE, Capitol Theatre, 20 July to 11 August 2012, then touring. Photos by James Morgan.: full cast.
Reviewed by BRYCE HALLETT
THE enduring strength of the Broadway classic A Chorus Line is that it embraces human diversity, reveals the struggles and Olympic-like dreams of dancers and celebrates pure storytelling. On an austere, dimly-lit stage, the spotlight moves across a motley row of hopefuls auditioning for a place in the "chorus line" of a musical on the Great White Way. Each individual is fleetingly highlighted. Some have beaming smiles and wide-eyed expressions; others look like rabbits caught in the glare of headlamps. During two uninterrupted hours the aspiring hoofers come to share their personal stories - the sacrifices, defeats, rejections and insecurities - which ultimately form a vivid mosaic about the inspiration, drive and willpower needed, not only to snare a prized spot on Broadway but just to get noticed.
A Chorus Line premiered in 1975 and ran on Broadway for a phenomenal 15 years. It earned 12 Tony Awards and won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The musical eclipsed Kander and Ebb's far sassier and daring Chicago, not necessarily because it was superior but because it struck a chord with a broad audience. People from all walks of life identified with at least one or two of the show's characters and the varying hurdles they faced. Both Chicago and A Chorus Line are drawn from real life but in the mid-'70s Broadway was not yet ready for a dark vaudeville about cold-blooded killers set in the 1920s. That would come 20 or so years later in the form of a lean and mean, sexy and spare revival starring Ann Reinking and Bebe Neuwirth.
No sooner did A Chorus Line open than it became an overnight "singular sensation". It held a mirror to society's ambitions, anxieties and fears. Like the ground-breaking musical West Side Story 18 years earlier, the lovingly-crafted work of director/choreographer Michael Bennett was honest, direct, organic and tight. As such, any revival of A Chorus Line tends to be faithful, almost reverential, instead of transformative or unexpectedly bold. At a time when theatre classics, particularly the plays of Shakespeare and Ibsen, are being reinterpreted by writers, directors and designers in audacious and, in some instances, revelatory ways, the danger of adhering to the tried and tested template makes for a production that's moderately entertaining rather than edgy or exciting. And so it is with the Australian-cast revival directed by the show's original cast member Bayork Lee.
A Chorus Line is a valentine to Broadway and a product of its time, which isn't to say it's dated or irrelevant - not by a long stretch - but the show lacks the overall star power - that extra special something - to make it truly memorable and dazzling. There are several appealing performances but no breathtakingly energetic show-stoppers, except, perhaps, the golden finale in which the cast converge wearing shiny top hats and tails.
The cajoling director Zach (Joshua Horner) wants the performers to shed their inhibitions and reveal their true natures or at least a facet of their lives that informs who they are. We meet 17 hopefuls vying for the opportunity to fulfil their hopes and dreams. Only four males and four females will make it through. Horner dances well enough but his performance lacks charisma and presence. Try as he might he never finds the resources to break free of the role's undeniable shackles.
The cast - like the chorus line itself - has its share of strengths and weaknesses but if only there were more crowning moments. The musical's book by James Kirkwood and Nicholas Dante is founded on conversations with actors working in New York City, a number of whom went on to star in the original 1975 production. The stories ring true but the characters demand unerring conviction and dimension to make a meaningful connection in this day and age.
The sardonic veteran Sheila is played by Debora Krizac with an alluring combination of street-smarts and sex siren wile. In the beautifully-etched and modulated role of the Puerto Rican Paul, Euan Doidge is outstanding. His performance is expressive yet poised. When he lifts the lid on Paul's emotions the torment and release are palpably real and make for one of the musical's highlights.
One of the brightest star turns of the original musical sprang from the character of Cassie (Anita Louise Combe), a starlet whose career has plummeted but who steadfastly clings to the time-honoured dance rituals and work ethic of Broadway. Zach loves her and reveres the dancer she once was but the relationship manifested in this version is piecemeal and lacks spark. Combe never entirely gets under Cassie's skin and her dance solo (The Music and The Mirror) lacks the colour, variation and intensity to match the rhythms and increasing insistence of Marvin Hamlisch's fine score.
Three of the standout performances are delivered by the consistently impressive Rohan Browne, the versatile Ashley McKenzie and the elastic-limbed Kurt Douglas as Richie. But vocally and choreographically A Chorus Line only takes flight during the ensemble numbers. Then it becomes rousing, sharp and tight. The orchestra, under the baton of musical director Paul White, is brisk, brassy and bright. It is one of the best attributes in a revival that makes for an entertaining stroll down memory lane but falls short of strutting itself as a potent sensation for a new generation.
