|
||
By
FRANCINE L. TREVENS
Time
was, you'd go to see a musical comedy, the lights would dim, and the
dark would be filled with a rousing overture that had your feet tapping
or your body swaying to the irresistible strains of melody. This
visceral reaction can be seen in little children who move so naturally
to music. After
all, music is made for dancing. Rarely does one dance without
it. Musicals are presumed to be music-laden, otherwise they are billed
as plays with music. And for those of us who love dance, a musical
with little dance is like a song without lyrics…you don't find much
of that in a Broadway musical. You
do find dance shows, that
are mostly bookless, and often more athletics than dance. But
they are an entirely different category. The dancing in today's
all dance shows is dramatic and acrobatic. It is as exciting as
a roller coaster and as frightening as a chamber of horrors, for the
leaps and rapidly changing body movements are so strenuous one fears
for the safety of the dancers. The
old musical, with its exciting overture and its plentiful dance numbers
is what is missing. An overture was a great idea and one that
served several purposes. It set the mood for the entire show,
it gave you a taste of what was to come, it quieted the audience down
and offered an opportunity to admit latecomers without obscuring the
first few scenes – because the scenes hadn't started yet. The
“Carousel” overture was one such example. I remember sitting in
the last row of the second balcony and being swept along with that incredible
Rodgers music. My seat cost one dollar, enabling me to attend regularly.
Most often, there were empty seats nearer the front of the balcony,
and at intermission one often moved. But
what a viewpoint for enjoying dance this afforded. You could see
the entire pattern of the dance and fully appreciate the choreographer's
vision. And having a familiarity with the music from the sampling
in the overture, your response was full-fledged enjoyment. Incidentally,
this season New York City Ballet presented “Carousel”, a romantic ballet
set to that music. The most memorable part of that piece (choreographed
by their resident choreographer, Christopher Wheeldon) was the creation
of a turning carousel out of the rising and falling bodies of the circling
dancers. It was one of those moments that will stay forever in
one's memory. At least, this one's memory.
Not
long ago, a show slipped onto Broadway from Canada via Western USA,
which paid tribute to old musicals, even older than “Carousel” –
musicals where music reigned and dance was as integral as singing.
It was called “The Drowsy Chaperone” and should have awakened the makers
of musical theatre today to an audiences’ avid response to exuberant
dance on stage. While staged rather tongue in cheek, the dances
worked wonderfully and would have entranced even without the instant
clothing changes and the laughably appropriate old-fashioned style script
they were parodying. Dance was
so significant to the musical of yesteryear that dancers such as Michael
Bennett, Gower Champion, Bob Fosse and Tommy Tune moved from dancing
into choreographing and then to directing musicals. Since Agnes
DeMille made dance an integral part of the story line in “Oklahoma”,
and others continued to make it flow in and out of the non-musical proceedings,
it was only logical that to keep that seamless flow, the choreographer
should stage the entire musical. Most
musicals of today, however, have replaced dance with movement. While
dance is movement, not all movement is dance. It’s rather
like what humming is to singing. I suspect that trend began when
musicals were no longer musical comedies. That word's been dropped from the definition, and rightly so. But
even the serious musicals of yesteryear, “Evita”, “Sweeney Todd”, “Les
Miserables” and “Miss Saigon” had memorable dances. Master
Of The House in “Les Miserables”
was an incredible eleven o’clock number – the big wake up number
of old-fashioned musicals. That's one example, but an even more
potent one comes to mind. I
vividly recall sitting in a London Theatre watching Jonathan Pryce cavort
all over a car in The American Dream
number from “Miss Saigon.” I knew instantly that would be a highlight
of the Tony Awards once that show hit Broadway. There
was a huge brouhaha about allowing Pryce to come with the show. American
Actors Equity argued Americans imported British shows with British actors
while English Equity took our shows and recast entirely with English
actors, except maybe for a world-renowned star or two. Vivid recollections
of The American Dream
number alone would have made a powerful argument for giving
such a great talent a chance at American Theatre’s stages and awards.
And since then, Pryce has been as much an American actor as a British
one. Because
of his performance in “Miss Saigon”, I had assumed Pryce was a long
practicing trained dancer. Thus what a surprise at a Drama Desk
event last year to hear him say he did not consider himself a dancer
at all. On
the other hand, Hugh Jackman, who recreated the life of Peter Allen
on stage in “The Boy From Oz”, astounded audiences with his multi-skilled
performance. His dances, as loose limbed and light hearted as anything
Ray Bolger ever pulled off, were star turn highlights of that musical.
(For those who don't remember Bolger’s stage work, take a look at him
in the classic film “The Wizard Of Oz”.) Jackman won all three
stage prizes for best actor that year — the Drama Desk, Outer
Critics Circle Award and the Tony. The man did it all: acted,
sang and danced in the old triple threat mode. Who
can think of “Damn Yankees” without thinking of Gwen Verdon? Who
can think of “Chicago” without recalling the great dance numbers of
Bob Fosse? The revival recreated them, as Gower Champion’s choreography
was recreated in the recent revival of “42nd Street”. And
the unforgettable “A Chorus Line”, which told the travails and triumphs
of aspiring Broadway dancers, which is now enjoying a revival had dance
had its heart as it explored the heart of dancers. Isn't
it obvious from the success of such revivals that people long for rousing
dance numbers? Yes, producers bring back the old musicals because
they have a track record and are less risky than creating and mounting
a new one. But when they do
mount new ones, my beef (paraphrasing the little old lady in the TV
commercials) is Where’s the Dancing? Even
children's musicals such as “How The Grinch Stole Christmas” this year
are using more movement than true dance. Something was missing:
the kids around me did more dancing on their parent's laps or the minimal
floor space in front of their chairs than there was on stage.
Compare it to a painting without a color palette. The viewer feels cheated.
(An all white canvas became the comic focal point of this idea in a
play of several years back called “Art”.) Yes, a “Whistler’s Mother”
can pull it off – but the stage is not a proving ground for Whistlers! I
am not advocating going back to the old dream ballet, or the huge chorus
numbers where one group sang and another danced. Today's economy won't
support it. Unless
of course, producers decided dance was more important than making scenery
into a costar on the stage. Instead of sets that collapse or grow
before your eyes or twirl out of sight or out over the audience, dance
can be the icing on the Broadway cake. It can easily garner as
many oohs and aahs as technical effects. More, most likely. For
the millions who like cupcakes, I ask – are they complete and
completely satisfying without icing? Why then should musicals
omit the delicious and delightful finishing touch of dance? |