A quick flick back through my history of reviews will reveal, gentle reader, that I am an avid fan of A Chorus Line; ever since I first saw it in 1976 I’ve found nothing to beat it, and this General Election matinee was the eighteenth time I’ve seen a production of the show. You can read what I thought about this Curve production when we caught it in December 2021 here, or early in its revival run at the London Palladium in 2013 here. There’s no point me rewriting history, after all. Just take it from me that its heart of kindness and its overwhelming capacity for positivity drive it on, no matter how modern directors and choreographers might wish to tamper with it.
When it was playing at the Drury Lane in the 1970s it took about 2 hours and 10 minutes to perform (without an interval). It now takes about 1 hour and 50 minutes. Same show, same songs, same script. You can interpret this difference in two ways; Mrs Chrisparkle, for example, feels that today it’s much pacier and snappier, and she prefers it that way. Or you can agree with me that many scenes are rushed, to the detriment of the emotions lurking within the text and the largely true stories of the individual dancers. The plot twist, for example, when one of the dancers towards the end has a fall and can play no further part in the audition has in the past gripped audiences with its injustice and a sense of tragedy. Here it’s quickly dealt with, they are removed from the scene, and life goes on.
We both have a big gripe with this production – the use of the hand-held camera by choreographer’s assistant Larry. It adds nothing and detracts a lot. Frequently not in focus and out of synch with the live action; and given the fact that they have re-set the show, as it originally was, in 1975, they didn’t have hand-held cameras like that in those days. I was surprised – and delighted – that Val’s original challenging lyrics for her verse in And…. have been reinstated; Judy Turner once more pretends that her real name is Lana Turner (not Tina Turner, as in some more recent productions); and that Maggie and Connie both turn to Mike and confirm that he is indeed a sex maniac with superb comic timing – an opportunity frequently missed over recent years.
I miss the original Michael Bennett choreography badly; Ellen Kane’s 21st century version is lively and expressive but it lacks an individuality of its own, whereas Bennett’s was simply unmistakable, in its show-offish, exhilarating brash self-confidence. That’s not to say that the reinvented finale scene doesn’t work – it works brilliantly and is a pure joy to witness. I also miss the original costume design; again, as they’re sticking with the 1975 setting, some of those more eye-catching costumes today are distinctly from the modern era.
I think there’s also a tendency to overplay some of the characters and make them a little more goofy and kooky than in previous productions; after all, the characters are powerfully drawn, realistic people – because they were based on real people that Bennett interviewed whilst preparing the show – and overdoing some of the comedy tends to make it a little more pantomimish, a little more caricature. And I also feel that the tendency to have more scenes played away from standing On The Line dumbs the show down a little, making it cosier. That Chorus Line of the title is a strip of light on the floor, and every character sticks to their own position along it. There’s no hiding place on the line, it’s brutal, and the private moments that the characters confide from the line are more telling and hard-hitting. Move away from the line, further upstage, and it feels a safer, less scrutinised environment. That’s the wrong place for this show to be.
You might think from all that that I didn’t enjoy it. Far from it, I loved it, as I always do. Stand out performances for me were from Carly Mercedes Dyer as a very no-nonsense Cassie, Manuel Pacific as a shy but strangely confident Paul who becomes more and more willing to talk as his scene progresses, Chloe Saunders as a very bright and in-your-face Val, and Redmand Rance as a nicely underplayed Mike.
It goes without saying that all the dancing and singing are of the highest quality, and Matthew Spalding’s band are second to none, with some inventive and musically challenging rearrangements. If you’ve never seen A Chorus Line before, you’re in for a treat – after its run in Leicester it goes to Salford, followed by three weeks at Sadlers Wells, then Norwich, Canterbury, Birmingham, Cardiff, Edinburgh and finally High Wycombe in the first week of October. The show is still in very safe hands, I’m relieved to say!
Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!
