‘A Chorus Line’

Press, 7 December 1987, Page 6

‘A Chorus Line’

Michael Bennett’s “A Chorus Line,” presented by Michael Edgley International, Ltd, at the Theatre Royal, December 5 to 9. Running time 2hr 15min (no interval). Reviewed by Philip Norman. For the next few days, Christchurch theatregoers need not travel to New York to see a top Broadway show live. The international touring company of "A Chorus Line,” now dancing its way round the globe to justifiable acclaim, has arrived in Christchurch for a brief season at the Theatre Royal. At a top seat price of $55, the cost of admission may seem high, but I doubt if there is a more economical way to view such quality fare. Music, movement and speech are skilfully interwoven to provide memorable theatrical entertainment.

“A Chorus Line” is now in its thirteenth year. With its innovative treatment of a theme as old as dance itself, the musical shows few signs of age. The sequence “Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love” with its self-conscious, en-counter-group airing of early sexual memories, is one of the few that dates the material as pre-1980s.

In short, the show retains a thoroughly modern flavour. Anyone who has brushed with the entertainment industry, or indeed, applied for any form, of employment, will find the topics explored frighteningly relevant. It was easy to identify with the fears and aspirations expressed by the auditioning dancers as they exposed their art and their personalities to close scrutiny.

In terms of staging, “A Chorus Line” is a miracle of simplicity. A folding mirror backdrop and an ominous white line drawn across the foot of the stage comprise the set. Apart from the glittering outfits sported in the finale, rehearsal clothes are worn for the duration of the show.

With such an appropriately sparse setting, the success of the performance is almost totally dependent on the strengths of performers. “A Chorus Line” is a true ensemble work of theatre; it permits no passengers in the cast. In this respect, the touring company deserves full praise. All the players moved, when required, with choreographed precision and grace. Their characterisations were sustained with consistency and conviction, and the standard of singing was maintained at an acceptably high level. As a team, thfe company easily generated the energy required to propel the show through its non-stop course of emotional drama.

A few of the performers, however, deserve special mention for their striking individual contributions. The physical exuberance and vocal prowess of Wellington Perkins (Richie), the finely-tuned dramatic triming of Stephen Crenshaw (Paul), and the vulnerable air but powerful stage presence of Alison Mann (Diana) suggest their proper place is in front of a chorus line.

The performance was slickly backed by a 17-piece band, installed, curiously, in the foyer of the Theatre Royal Circle. The band’s sound, presumably synchronised with the action by means of closed circuit television, was piped into the auditorium through speakers at the side of the stage. To my mind, any gains in control of the over-all balance achieved by this setup were more than countered by the loss of tonal definition.

Although something of the atmosphere of live music was retained, to all intents and purposes the sound may as well have been pre-recorded. In the over-all scheme, this is but a minor quibble, and did little to detract from what was a thoroughly enjoyable evening of polished and truly professional music theatre.