The whole world loves to dance. It has been a form of expression for the past 70,000 years. Turn on some music in any given place, and watch people automatically slightly sway to the rhythm. Dance is a kind of language that caters to emotional and physical expressions, a way of communicating wordless feelings. In the days of discos, these were filled to capacity on weekends, even if it required an entrance fee or a minimum consumption of food. Perhaps all 7,000 islands in the Philippines have a native dance, like in every country. And yet, when performed as a formal art form, dance is the least supported financially by funders, and under appreciated by the public. Selling tickets for dance shows becomes a big challenge in breaking even with production costs.
Unlike other art forms, dance has that intangible quality, its appreciation visible only for a passing moment, something that can be owned solely in the mind and nothing more.
Conversely, becoming a dancer has more than tangible evidences as the dancer’s entire physicality is put to a test. The lack of appreciation can also be attributed to the fact that the general populace lacks exposure to the “educated” dance form, passing off “yugyugan” as a passable dance genre, thus making mediocrity acceptable.
Cast and crew of ‘A Chorus Line’
It was in 1975 that the musical A Chorus Line opened first off-Broadway, then in a Broadway opening a few months later. The musical ran consistently non-stop for 15 years, closing in 1990, with its cast over the years adding up to 500 in the 6,137 performances that were mounted.
The plotline of the musical is driven by the narratives of the auditioners, each of them relating his/her life, fears, desires, revealing perhaps for the first time to the public what a dancer goes through, and why they want to and need to dance.
It is plainly a “backstage” musical where the narrative never reveals what the dancers are auditioning for. The only challenge they face is to be one of the “four girls and four boys” chosen for a part in the chorus.
In all, it was a groundbreaking theater concept at the time of its Broadway premiere. A happy, yet heartbreaking truth about the very art form that brings on happy vibes, it was perhaps the first time that a theater presentation required the cast to be “triple threats”: a performer who sang, danced, and acted.
The Philippine production’s challenge was faced with that demand. And it succeeded well beyond expectations.
TGA executive director Christopher Mohnani, associate director JM Cabling, choreographer/director Karla Puno Garcia, TGA overall artistic director and Tony Award-winner Clint Ramos
The Philippine cast, a mix of local and Fil-Am talents flown in from various countries and local provinces, have to come up to par with their Broadway predecessors. In a painstaking round-up process undertaken by Theater Group Asia (TGA), diligently documented in seven episodes (on YouTube), choreographer/director Karla Puno Garcia, associate director JM Cabling, associate director Jamie Wilson, with TGA executive director Christopher Mohnani, fine tooth-combed each applicant. Their process was practically a case of life imitating art.
JM Cabling and Karla Puno Garcia: Their work ‘a case of life imitating art’
The final choices are a wonderful blend of voices held together by precise dance steps that are re-interpreted from the original Michael Bennett choreography. Whether intentional or not, the execution of the steps acquires a certain generational “vibe,” with shades of the Fosse-inspired angularity of Bennett’s original work. Bob Fosse, arguably the most influential jazz choreographer in the ’70s, introduced contradictions of basic ballet positions, such as turned-in knees, toes, and feet instead of turned out, defined isolations instead of flowing movements, splayed fingers instead of gracefully cupped ones, accompanied by “staccattoed” music specifically arranged for Fosse by chosen collaborators like Fred Ebb and John Kander. One of his films, All That Jazz, which was semi-autobiographical, won him nominations and international film awards.
In the Manila version of A Chorus Line, Fosse’s signature diagonal hip thrust followed by a pivotal turn in two steps is present, apart from the walk of bent knees with hips thrust forward, among others. However, the genre is not clearly defined, whether or not that was intentional.
Unlike the usual body type selected for ensemble dances on Broadway, this Chorus Line production eschews the standard ectomorph, long limbs, short torso, small head, and long neck which are obvious not just in ballerinas, but especially in groups like Radio City Hall’s Rockettes, the precursor of what would be known as “Broadway bodies.” To be included in that ensemble, a dancer needs to fall into that very same, exact mold. This version of Chorus Line adopts inclusivity, the beauty of it being once this cast dances in one breath, there is no difference in body type; their collective precision elicits one hypnotic motion that draws awe and applause from the audience.
Conrad Ricamora as Zach and Richardson Yadao as Larry
The immersion of each cast member in his/her role is solid, sincere, and heartfelt, communicating to the audience an authenticity of character that may as well be true in real life, since their character is relatable to the lives of true-to-life dancers, and even ordinary people.
The cast’s voices are chosen well to fit their roles, the enunciation of each member clear and expressive. Where dance is concerned, the moves that stand out are that of Richardson Yadao who plays Larry, the assistant to the rehearsal master played by Conrad Ricamora as Zach. Yadao has spent a lifetime dancing in the Philippines and abroad, recently stepping out of Alice Reyes Dance Philippines as a lead dancer. He was almost immediately cast as ensemble dancer in the musicals A Christmas Carol and The Bodyguard.
Ricamora as Zach utilizes an authoritative commanding voice, which sometimes is projected from the dark, an intimidating factor for an auditioning dancer. He carries the stance until his realization that his ambition has come ahead of his love relationship with lead dancer, Cassie (played by Lissa de Guzman). From the confident magisterial stance, his meltdown—hat weakly held in hand, shoulders sloping as he stands in a corner—is silently touching.
Lissa de Guzman (Cassie), Jessica Carmona (Connie), Christina Glur (Diana)
Central to the show is the technical aspect which is a stunning element of the production that gives the trademark showbiz glow. The set, designed by scenographer Miguel Urbino, in his own words were “modular…with mobile elements that can dance with the dancers…mirrors on wheels, showing elements that are usually masked or hidden from the audience…the same way the show is exposing the lives of the chorus..”
In tandem with lighting designer, Cha See, the finale has the proscenium bursting in lights in patterns resembling giant stained glass windows, dancing to the beat of the music—an eye-popping finale for a show that was meticulously and professionally produced by a group of dedicated theater producers. Apart from the hard-working cast, a huge congratulations is due to Theater Group Asia for a job superbly done.
