A Chorus Line
Run Time: 135ish minutes, 15 minute intermission
Accessible Seating: Available
Hearing Devices: Available
Sensory Friendly Performance: Not available
Production Sound Level: Comfortable Volume
Noises or Visuals to Prepare for: Live Band, no sudden sounds
Reviewed by Bradford Reilly
Some history: Toward the end of the 1960s, Broadway was in decline. 70+ theatre marquis that bedazzled the Great White Way dwindled to 36 as productions struggled to bring in audiences. Questions that have haunted ghost-lit stages since the Ancient Greeks rang throughout the country: Is theatre dying? What is the future of this bastion of culture? And what will become of the livelihood of the thousands upon thousands of artists who drive the business? Yet, it is from these fiscal guardrails and the ingenuity, resolve, and vulnerability of passionate artists that A Chorus Line debuted in 1975 and became the 6th longest running show in Broadway history.
This year marks the musical’s 50th anniversary, and Theatre Arlington has created a production that proves its place as one of the most influential theatrical works of all time and honors the artists that make theatre possible.
The production directed by Steven D Morris begins with a sparse set (designed by Bryan Stevenson) of an audition room. Dance mirrors in the background, and an ensemble identified only by numbers learn their dance call. We, the audience, become casting directors—watching each performer bring their all, hoping to break from the cattle call to get into the chorus of a new Broadway show. The dancers do the same series of 8 counts over and over and over again with varying ability. They do it together, they get broken up into various groups. The audience experiences the chaos that is an audition.
As a member of the DFW theatre community myself, my eyes go to the performers I’ve had the privilege to perform with (incredible work, Mattie Lillian Davis and Andrew Cave!) while other times I clocked someone I didn't know because of a well-executed pas de bourree or arabesque, or whatever those dance moves are called (Justin Konopka’s technique was sharp and charismatic). Ultimately, the opening sequence establishes the musical not as a vehicle for star-power, but as a focus on the ensemble—in every sense of the word. By the end of the show, I had forgotten how any of the performers did during the call. What I remembered was how certain members made me connect, and made me feel. This is an important point for the entire production.
After this first dance sequence, certain numbered ensemble members get cut—even some I thought might make it to the end—while the remainder line up on a white line. The audition becomes more unconventional, requiring the dancers to speak and open themselves up, leave behind pretense, and get to the heart as to why they perform and why they deserve to be cast.
Though an entirely ensemble-focused show, two characters stand out as significant, and were both portrayed excellently in their drive to get cast—Candice Proctor as Cassie and Daniel Vanegas as Paul. Cassie and Pa
Proctor’s Cassie would have been unassuming if her red dress didn’t make her stand out. Her struggle is that she is overqualified, and the casting directors have difficulty seeing where to put her. She had already broken from the chorus line and into featured roles: and she would be an older dancer. Cassie wants to prove she has a place back in the chorus where she feels most self-actualized, and has been in need of work—fulfilling work—for the last two years. Proctor’s portrayal was bright and steadfast, wanting to get back on the stage on her own merit, and dance again. Cassie’s story is timeless, as any adult of any age can start three careers before breakfast, maybe ten before age fifty. And the fear that we start too late is omnipresent with the threat of someone better than you in the same room—going for the exact same job (Here’s looking at you, Kayla Starr Brian, who plays a deliciously serving Sheila).
On the other hand, Paul begins the famous “I really need this job” motif established early in the opening number, cementing him as a sympathetic character to follow throughout the production. We get to know him a lot better in his monologue in the second act, where Paul recounts growing up Catholic and gay in a Puerto Rican household, dropping out of school, and playing pony at drag shows (in theatrical parlance—boys who dress up as girls). Daniel Vanegas brought a grounded honesty to Paul that sold to us why we should root for him. There was a star quality Vanegas brought to the character, as if he could make it to the chorus on Broadway. He was on the precipice of growth.
Some additional shoutouts:
The costumes designed by Hannah Bell defined each of the 20 or so chorus members incredibly well. I had mentioned Cassie’s red dress as an example, but other nuances of character shined—notably Sheila’s (Kayla Starr Brian) nude bodice, Greg’s (Evan Taiclet) Fred-from-Scooby-Doo scarf and chemise, and ensemble member Frank’s (Caiden Garcia) ridiculously fun dancers/workout outfit and hairdo. Even the smallest characters have sharp definition, and it is incredibly difficult to accomplish in a large cast like this one.
Music direction by Mark Mullino was expertly executed. “At the Ballet” (with gorgeous solos from Kayla Starr Brian, Mattie Lillian Davis, and Sydney Dotson) was one highlight where we got to see a shared beginning for their love of dance. “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three” performed by Kynzi Gumm-Harris was hilarious and a story well-told. I also want to highlight the live band (yay band!) Jay Majernik on the drums, Rick Norman on the bass, Randy Honeycutt on the reed, and Rich Adams on the trumpet. They sounded great, and it all blended well together.
Why do we do it?
Theatre Arlington’s production of A Chorus Line gets us to examine why we do art and elevates those who have the privilege to do it. Director Steven Morris asks the question in his director’s note: Why do we put ourselves on the line hoping to share our talents, our dreams, and our stories? And then he gives us the gift to explore this question through his direction. Casting decisions are outside of an actor’s control, but auditions—or any job interview for that matter—are an opportunity to show who we are—what drives us, what makes us laugh, what connects us to the material, how we play. The casting director in A Chorus Line asks the dancers auditioning to lay down pretense to show us who they really are, because who we are is all we as artists have. I had mentioned that I could not tell you how certain actors did in the initial dance call sequence, but I can tell you what the individuals made me feel. Worth is not defined by the success of an audition, or if we even get cast. We bring ourselves, and that’s what’s important.
I went into this production blind, and it was absolutely worth experiencing. Do not miss this show. It is full of heart and love for the artform. You might even find it infectious.
Enjoy the show!
Bradford Reilly
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