A Chorus Line Revival Faithful to a Fault
Is A Chorus Line gospel?
Director Bob Avian seems to be treating it as such in the touring production of the Broadway revival, now playing at the National Theatre.
This, for all intents and purposes, is the same show that surprised and delighted Broadway audiences back in 1975. No attempts at modernization, no choreographic tinkering. Even the leotards are the same.
The loyalty will be appreciated by A Chorus Line purists who never got the chance to see the show for themselves on Broadway. But A Chorus Line is no museum piece, not an obscure, undiscovered gem. This was the longest running show there in its day, and really hasn't been absent all that long. An untouched, reverent revival feels out of place, especially when contrasted with the original intent of the show. These were characters born out of real-life individuals, a Broadway reality show before the term even existed. Watching a carbon copy of this vibrant, originally innovative work feels a little hollow.
But on its own merits as glitzy, yet frequently powerful entertainment, this A Chorus Line succeeds. In particular, the opener "I Hope I Get It," crackling with energy, satisfyingly embodies the tension and desperate hope these performers are experiencing — it's a particular treat to watch them enact Michael Bennet's striking choreography (recreated by Baayork Lee) tentatively, determinedly, as they're supposed to just be learning it.
The audience's personal connection with the dancers as individuals, rather than as assembly-line kickers, is at the heart of A Chorus Line. We feel it in Shannon Lewis' sardonic, heavily-armored Sheila, whose opening verse of "At The Ballet" is striking not so much for its vocal prowess, but with how much she makes us empathize with what her younger self experienced in her broken home (the song, however, derails a bit by the end, due to harsh, brassy vocals from Hollie Howard's Maggie, who has a tendency to drown out other singers even in chorus numbers). Gabrielle Ruiz's interpretation of "Nothing," an ode to the ridiculousness of method acting, is another show highlight. And Kevin Santos sympathetically embodies the show's most heartbreaking character, Paul, whose life-story monologue is at the heart of the production's pathos.
Today's economic uncertainty casts an interesting layer on the themes of A Chorus Line. These characters, who have risked physical ruin, poverty and humiliation, all in the name of doing their passion for a living, are perhaps even more remarkable in such an unstable world. But when lawyers, journalists, construction workers find themselves on equally shaky ground, does it become harder to admire what they did for love? It's an interesting question — perhaps there's a justification for an A Chorus Line revival after all.
A Chorus Line runs through March 22 at the National Theater. Tickets are available online.