JADAR

★★★★☆

Following its hit run at Curve during the 2021 festive season, Nikolai Foster’s roaring revival of Broadway classic A Chorus Line has returned for a UK tour, which is currently in Salford after premiering at Curve and ahead of a West End residency.

Based on real conversations with Broadway performers, A Chorus Line is a group audition that plays out in real time. Everything is set in one place (literally a theatre stage – brilliantly meta) at one time. It’s just one long scene – almost two hours without an interval.

It’s a jarring feeling, watching a rehearsal – we shouldn’t be there; it’s voyeuristic. The musical literally lifts the curtain on the theatre industry and shows us what it’s really like, behind all the glitz and glamour. Performers are people, with lives, loves, hopes, dreams and fears of their own.

The first part of the show feels a bit repetitive. It’s a character study, and there are a lot of characters to get through, but, presumably realising this, writers James Kirkwood Jr. and Nicholas Dante decided to tackle the characters and their backgrounds differently, determined to avoid making its script formulaic.

After a few dancers are eliminated, various members of the “chorus” are given time to shine – some get their own musical numbers; some get monologues; others have to share songs; and then there are those that repeatedly pop up, their stories drawn out. The diversity in the storytelling keeps audiences interested.

After the big opening number, ‘I Hope I Get It’, which is a busy mix of singing, dancing and talking, the first solo number is performed by the passionate Redmand Rance as Mike.

Whilst the show is very much an ensemble (I mean chorus) piece, Cassie (WhatsOnStage Award winner and Olivier Award nominee Carly Mercedes Dyer) is given more attention. She sort-of floats around in the background at the beginning, though towards the top of the show, it’s clear that she shares a connection with the director, Zach (Olivier, Tony and multiple WhatsOnStage Award nominee Adam Cooper – one of the world’s finest dancers).

Midway, there’s a big group number (an interval could be inserted here but it would cut the energy, momentum and intensity that the show has worked hard to build), and then the show has a bit of a gear change. Most the cast depart (previously, they just went into the open wings a couple of times), leaving just Cassie and Zach onstage. Dyer delivers a moving rendition of ‘The Music and the Mirror’.

But perhaps the most emotional part of the show is the following scene: a private conversation between Paul (an angelic Manuel Pacific) and Zach, in which Zach finally gets Paul to reveal his origin, which was teased much earlier on.

Jacosta Amgill (Diana), supported by the company (chorus!), slays the penultimate number: the iconic ‘What I Did for Love’, an optimistic, philosophical number, in which the performers concur that everything they’ve done for their careers, they did for love – which carefully contrasts the musical’s wider determination to show audiences just how brutal and damaging the industry can be. Indeed, following this anthemic number, Zach dismisses half the performers.

It’s not easy to standout in a chorus – especially in a musical about a chorus – and whilst this show gives everybody a chance to shine, Dyer and the aforementioned performers fight for their time in the spotlight.

Before the final number, Cooper finally gets to show off his dance skills. Zach, though intriguing, is a little emotionally stunted, but this interpretive dance adds depth to his character.

The musical’s signature song is, of course, ‘One’ – which, ironically, is performed twice. The first – usually ‘One’ but here retitled ‘One (Rehearsal)’ – is a rehearsal for the second – usually ‘One (Reprise)’ but here retitled ‘One’. The latter, the grand finale, is very different to the rest of the show. I’m sure lots of people head into the theatre aware only of ‘One’ – but, boy, are they in for a treat (or not) when they realise that ‘One’ is a far cry from the rest of the show.

Ostensibly, ‘One’ is a great, big, gold musical theatre number that celebrates musical theatre and the underappreciated skill, talent and precision of the chorus – but when you listen to the lyrics (and in the specific context of the show), you realise that it is, in fact, an ironic, devastating number.

All dressed in gorgeous, gold costumes (essentially uniforms), it becomes hard to tell the dancers apart. The uniqueness that made them all so interesting throughout the show has now been damaged by the reality of show business. Every single one of those kids deserves to be a star – to be “the one” – but, heck, they’re lucky just to be in the chorus.

Whilst the characters are all given backstories, and thus depth, it’s hard to develop characters in an ensemble piece that is set in one place at one time – and thus tricky for the audience to fully invest in them – but this scene is a real emotional wallop.

‘One’ contrasts with the rest of the show in every way, and it’s utterly mesmerising, but I do feel that it could be bigger. There are pyrotechnics at the back of the stage, but there could have been more. The set is simple so surely there was money left in the budget for a little more jazz during ‘One’. At Big Night of Musicals, they had pyrotechnics at the stage front, which added more drama. Some performances get confetti (as seen in the image above) but strangely not on the Manchester press night.

‘One’ needs to be ridiculously lavish – it’s part of the message – and previous productions have achieved this better (Jonathan Rawlinson at The Theatre Talk said that one production had a huge mirror at the back of the stage, which I figure makes the chorus look infinite and confronts the audience with their own gaze).

Grace Smart’s stage design is simple but stylish, stunning and super effective, and a simple set allows the focus to be on the dazzling dancing – but ‘One’ is so much more than a big dance number.

Ellen Kane’s choreography (with associate choreographer from Lisa Welham) is electric – not just in ‘One’ but all throughout the show. She has taken the original choreography by creator and director Michael Bennett and his colleague Ben Avian and altered it for a modern British audience. The movement is punchier, jumpier, and less Broadway. It’s an old musical but it doesn’t feel at all dated – its themes are timeless, and the musical was bold, risqué and ahead of its time – the creatives just needed to modernise the costumes and choreography.

Edd Lindley clearly had fun with his costumes, and not only in the final number; even during the rehearsal, some of the characters speak to us not only through speech (and song) but also their clothing.

Howard Hudson’s lighting is realistic for most of the show; he gets to be more creative for Cooper’s dance and the grand finale, where the stage is showered in gold (not confetti, though, sadly).

A Chorus Line is a show like no other. It’s certainly not everybody’s cup of tea – nobody can deny the marvellous, melodious music and the camp, creative choreography, but the storytelling is alternative and unique, and some might find it alienating.

To some, it might be worth watching just for ‘One’ – a shame, then, that ‘One’ does not quite reach its full potential as an outrageously lavish feast for the senses, but it is performed so passionately that its message is still conveyed.

A Chorus Line runs at The Lowry (Lyric Theatre) until July 27 and transfers to Sadler’s Wells, London from July 31 to August 25, before resuming its UK tour from August 27 to October 5.

Photo: Marc Brenner