The premise behind A Chorus
Line is a fine one: giving voice to the faceless members of Broadway chorus
ensembles. It is perhaps this focus on
humanity, rather than fantasy, that has ensured the endurance of the show. But does it live up to its premise?
There’s only so much that can be done with seventeen dancers
stood on the titular line, but the show presents a snapshot of each dancer, drifting
between the reality of the audition experience and nostalgic dreamscapes. This is aided by some spectacular lighting
that cleverly utilizes spotlights and colour to delineate time and space, as
well as an intimate sense of voyeurism as the audience are given a
behind-the-scenes view of the audition in process. Yet whilst Hamlisch’s score cleverly
summarises Broadway traditions, the endless repetitions of dance steps and
numbers becomes tiresome – ‘One’(in both rehearsal and performance mode) is
enough to drive any audience insane.
One of the problems with A
Chorus Line is that it is a show for dancers about dancers. As expected, the original choreography utilised
here is thrilling and the quality of dance is exceptional, every dancer
performing in tight unison with every kick, flick, turn and point. It’s rare,
however, to find a cast of true ‘triple threats’. Something must suffer along the way and,
sadly, it’s the singing that takes the hit in this production. Being such a Broadway-jazz hands affair, the
singing is nasal and often a little screechy.
There is strength in numbers, with harmonies well blended together, but
solo sections in ‘At The Ballet’, for example, didn’t quite hit the mark. When the dancing is so accomplished, any
negative points are only more prominent.
There’s also an imbalance between the different parts, with
some receiving far more stage time than others.
As such, rather than revealing the humanity of these characters, many
are reduced to two-dimensional caricatures.
There are some clear stars amongst the ensemble though. Scarlett Strallen’s Cassie is the obvious
example – a failed Hollywood actress seeking to start over. Her solo piece, ‘The Music And The Mirror’,
is meant to be a virtuosic display but, despite some technically proficient
dancing and great use of mirrors, Strallen lacks sex appeal in the raunchy
instrumental, leaving the number falling a little flat. Victoria Hamilton-Barritt’s Diana, meanwhile,
strutted around the stage embodying Bronx swagger and sang ‘Nothing’ and ‘What
I Did For Love’ with aplomb. As the most
famous of the cast members, John Partridge is also an obvious standout and,
although he spends much of the show as Zach’s disembodied voice in the
audience, his occasional on-stage persona was well realised.
A Chorus Line does
show the darker side of the Broadway stage – the bitchiness and competitive
nature of auditions; the instability of regular employment; falling from grace;
and, in the case of Paul, paedophilia and sexuality. The latter is presented through an extended
monologue in a credible performance from Gary Wood, holding the audience
captivated with simply words and a spotlight.
In such a dance heavy show, it’s ironic that its most arresting moment
contains no dance at all. The show is
set in 1975 and, with the use of seventies costumes, risks becoming an
old-fashioned period piece. Yet the
issues the show tackles are still relevant today – another reason for the show’s
long-running success.
Together, the ensemble truly represent a unified singular
sensation. However, in a show striving
to highlight the individuality of its performers, it’s an inherent irony of the
production that they’re at their best when performing spectacularly as a single
chorus.
3/5
