A Singular Sensation

Yesterday, the traffic was light and the route clear between here and the coast, so I cruised the freeways with ease and arrived in time to set up the new desktop TV I brought along to replace my friend's old clunky set. By the time she returned from having her hair done, the TV was ready to watch. Ta-da.

We scuttled off for lunch as the movie was starting at 1:30 pm, but Islander was a parking lot nightmare, which led to a sudden decision to try TGI Friday's, an excellent choice, as it turned out. Not only was lunch served in record time, but it was absolutely delicious: Jack Daniels' sauce appetizer plate and a chopped pecan crushed chicken salad -- with two plates. We were out the door, across the parking lot, and into the theater by 1:25, finding our favorite seats at the back and settling in for an endless parade of trailers.

The film, Every Little Step, was new to me, but it is so good! It begins with a reel-to-reel talk session with Broadway dancers that evolves into a stage play. Michael Bennett, a professional dancer who becomes a choreographer, as well as a director, begins the discussion that ultimately chronicles what it is like to be a dancer, as well as the human being behind the talent. After listening to the tapes, Bennett contacts a friend, Marvin Hamlisch, and says, "I think I have something," and that something becomes A Chorus Line. The film encompasses 15 years of continuous performances (1970s-1990s) and follows a new generation of dancers as they audition for the revival cast. Beginning with thousands of dancers and almost a year's worth of auditions and callbacks, the film captures the history of the play, as well as the casting of the Chorus Line revival.

At one point, five men sit behind the audition table as a parade of Paul possibles try out for the coveted role. Intercut are some of the original performances as the audition panel explain that they need the heart of the character, not a specific physical look. And then a curly-haired, robust male stands in front of them, in appearance the complete opposite of the original Paul, and talks about the day his father saw him in drag in a Broadway performance. By the time the actor finishes the scene, the five men watching him are in tears, openly sobbing as they know that this actor is Paul in a way no other actor could be. It is a powerful moment for the casting, and also for the people behind the scenes, that magic moment that transforms an ordinary performance into extraordinary.

A Chorus Line is one of my favorite stage plays because not only does the story stay fresh, but the music and the dance make it memorable. As a former high school director of drama, I watched for the moments that separated the call-backs from the better luck next time auditioners. The spark, the charisma, the talented performers who transcend the performance were there. I knew which dancer would be Cassi, as well as which one thought she was the only one who should play that part. The intangibles are almost more important than the tangibles, sort of like in teaching: anyone can complete the coursework and pay for the credential, but that doesn't make that person a teacher, the same way that wearing tap shoes doesn't make anyone a dancer.

Every Little Step is playing in the desert, and I'm going to enjoy it again this weekend. Yeah, I liked it.