By Yvonne Hudson
The iconic songs and characters of A Chorus Line are woven into the fabric of musical theatre. Chorus Line was a game changer from its early development through the first listening sessions that led to its record-breaking Broadway run. Pittsburgh CLO’s production, running through Sunday, respects the birth and legacy of the show.
The collaboration of Tony-winning composer Marvin Hamlisch and lyricist Edward Kleban magnificently brought the stories of the original workshop participants to life for the show’s recording-breaking premiere in 1975.
It’s a gift that the show’s original Connie, Baayork Lee, stages CLO’s production. One of the keepers of the creator’s choreography and concert, she adheres to the core aspects of Michael Bennet‘s direction and choreography in her restaging. It’s a love letter to musical theater worthy of reopening again and again, here with James Cunningham music directing the actors and orchestra.
The costumes by Michael McDonald are based on Theoni V. Aldreges‘ original designs, so they evoke the premiere production. This production visually conjures those iconic poses, but each CLO cast member brings their unique talents and touches to the show.
A Chorus Line is the perfect show to introduce younger theater-goers to what all the fuss is about, a show that may have introduced many of their teachers and family members to Broadway. It is not a time capsule so much as a piece of Broadway that captures artists’ memories and audiences’ treasured experiences.
For a show touted as having no costumes, set, or stars, A Chorus Line sizzles. The music, the mirror, the lights, and the songs converge for two hours of constant engagement and entertainment. Here, audiences are told stories through monologues and songs, a concept that is intimately effectively as old as the storytellers who birthed theater.
The cultural context of the 70s era is subtext; this show premiered just before AIDS began to devastate the arts community, taking the lives of countless performing artists. A Chorus Line preserves some of the best and worst of times before the lights of individual artists were dimmed by the last century’s plague. From its roots, this irony and bittersweet reality bridge with today’s truth that theatres had to close because of a transmittal virus. With theatres again open and drawing audiences after an unprecedented pause, A Chorus Line reminds us that whatever we do for love is most precious. Most will recognize something of themselves in these stories of sixteen complex people who are also dancers. The difference is that they can dance it out when it’s all too much. And do they ever from the first notes through the final curtain call.
The show’s opening is an impressive tribute to the dancer’s art and unfailing stamina when more than twenty cast members are tested with an intense series of steps to show skills.
Of the twenty, how many does he need? Just 4+4, four girls and four boys.
The show-within-a-show director, Zach (Billy Harrigan Tighe), wants more than a chorus of dancers who can just execute the moves. In his lengthy audition process, he wants to know why they became dancers and what makes them tick. Their answers are revealed, one by one, in a series of deep, meaningful, classic songs and monologues about puberty, their passion for dance, loving, losing, and sexuality. They spill their hearts, souls, and lives out on stage and in front of their attentive colleagues and us.
For the audition interviews Zach has moved to the back of the house, where we watch him move to and from the stage. Tighe brings a credible detachment from his rather personal line of questioning. He artfully lets his empathy shine as it is clear his character Zach has also paid his artistic dues—as these artists must.
Each character gets a brief, shining moment throughout the thirteen songs and intricately intimate interviews, even those who don’t make the director’s first cut.
The whole company shines from the opening “I Hope I Get It” through the adolescent-adult anthem “Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love” to the rehearsal and closing performance of the shimmering, top-hatted “One.”
Heartfelt and almost heart-stopping moments include the show’s great and timeless anthems. Sarah Bowden is stunning as the show business veteran Cassie, with moments that indicate her experience with a personal style—one she’s got to squelch to fit into “the line”—and her overwhelming need for this gig. Her options are playing out, and like many artists in New York, she is likely worried about just paying the rent. She rocks in her solo “The Music and Mirror” with the artistry and precision of a star. It’s a timely celebration of a dance legacy on the stage where the original Cassie (Donna McKechnie) just appeared for CLO a few weeks ago.
We learn something about Zach’s love life that will shape the show. Cassie is a former love who has also worked as a leading musical star and is now auditioning for a place in Zach’s chorus after not landing any roles lately. Their conversations throughout the show interrupt the others’ confessions with dramatic effect.
Adriana Negon takes on Diana Morales, whose remembrances of cryptic acting classes are relatable to past theatre students. In “Nothing,” she shares finding no emotions when reaching into the depths of her soul to feel something for her assigned animal, object, or person. Negon is superb, delivering the spunky wit and strong moves that make Diana unforgettable. She puts the icing on the cake, leading with “What I Did for Love.”
More than a few tears were shed in the audience as the chorus soared on the lyrics “Love is Never Gone,” a prelude to the mirrored finale. “One” is a beloved tip of the hat to Broadway and the gypsy chorus folk who make shows possible. As stand-ins, understudies, and unknowns have been stepping in to save the day, those troupers are the ones we celebrate.
Mike, played by Tommy Bracco, is A little brother who took his sister’s place in early dance classes. Bracco displays charm and athleticism in “I can do that!”
“At the Ballet” is a masterpiece of yearning amid the turbulence of family upheaval performed by an overconfident sexy Sheila (Naomi C. Walley), the charming Bebe (Maya Kazza), and the stalwart Maggie (Zoe Killiam). Their stories and trio comprise a stellar musical theater classic on behalf of every little girl who hoped to grow up and dance.
Ian Liberto as Bobby, E. Clayton Cornelius as Richie, Grace Arnold as Val, and Tracy Sokat as Judy are grouped together to share their journeys on “And.” Cornelius is a stand-out, bringing his seasoned dance and acting prowess to an unforgettable moment.
Arnold’s Val is perky from ponytails to derriere. Val has paid for some swanky procedures on the Upper East Side for auditions with her new, more castable “tits and ass.” Arnold has a blast with the song and its clever rhymes in “Dance 10, Looks 3.”
Eddie Gutiérrez, as Paul, lands on how one’s sexuality can steer an artist’s journey, especially when “homosexuality” was considered a crime. One could hear a pin drop during Gutiérrez moving and captivating performance late in the show.
Recognizing there’s often an off-stage partner behind the performer, Gia Mongell as Kristine and Justin DeParis as her husband Al share her vocal foibles. “Sing,” a number inspired by an original workshop auditioner who could dance but not sing so well. They are a sweet pair who have lovely moments in the line throughout the show, reminding us that no one does this work without collaborators and supporters—be they castmates, friends, family, or audience, in this case, at the Benedum Center.
For tickets and to enjoy more about its history and rebirth with a stellar cast at the Benedum, visit the CLO website.
Categories: Reviews
Leave a Reply Cancel reply