Theater Review—

‘A Chorus Line’ Is Definitely One To See At Richter

By Julie Stern

DANBURY — A Chorus Line, Michael Bennett’s 1976 Tony sweeping tribute to the anonymous dancers who serve as background to the “star” of Broadway musicals, became one of the longest running musicals ever — one that featured a bare stage with no sets, a hodge-podge of carelessly thrown together mismatched costumes, and no “stars” whatsoever — except those used by entertainment sections to signify that this was a show worth seeing.

The conceit (rather than plot) is that Zach, the director of an upcoming show, is finishing up the casting by auditioning for the chorus. Twenty young hopefuls show up, clutching their glossy photos and résumés, all of whom need this job. By the end of the evening he will choose eight of them — four “boys” and four “girls.”

In addition to having them dance in groups of two, four and singly, Zach chooses to interview each aspirant individually, demanding not only that they tell him their name and their background, but also their secrets, their dreams.

Through a series of individual monologues and solos, distinct personalities emerge. The coldly aloof Sheila reveals how she found warmth and beauty at the ballet in contrast to her unloving parents. Mike, the 11th of 12 children in an Italian family, explains how he followed his older sister to dance class one day and discovers “I can do that!”

Maggie never heard of the ballet. She grew up without a father, and escaped to the movie musicals. Diana, a Puerto Rican from the Bronx, recalls the withering scorn of a drama teacher at The High School of Performing Arts, who told her that she should quit because she couldn’t “feel like a table” in one of his exercises.

And so it goes. Ironically, although we never learn the name — or the plot — of the musical that Zach is putting on, we do get a myriad of sharply defined characterizations. And of course, that is the point: these nameless gypsies — the boys and girls of the chorus, and real flesh and blood human beings, who matter to themselves, and to us, the audience.

By the end of the show, we have come to care for all of them, and the fact that nearly two-thirds of them will be weeded out and rejected, is devastating. That is what gives the show its underlying sense of pathos and sadness, along with the ebullience of the dancing, and the uproarious humor of James Kirkwood’s book, and Ed Kleban’s lyrics.

What is especially rewarding about this Richter production is that director Gene Bayliss has assembled a troupe of really talented serious actors who deliver a spirited performance. Their dancing, singing and comedic routines are delightful.

In particular, Sarah Lee Michaels as Sheila, and Jessica J. Smith as Diana, Bridget Krompinger as Maggie, Kevin Downing as Mike, Kristin M. Ruggieri as Cassie, the “over the hill” one of the group (and Zach’s former girlfriend); Nathan Mandracchia as Bobby, who grew up as a self-described oddball; Khallid Graham as Richie, who nearly became a kindergarten teacher; Renee Kaminsky as Val, who sings the famous “T and A” songwere all terrific.

Also, Kevin Cooper as the innovative Zach, Adrian Appleman as the handsome Al; Emma Downing as Kristine, Al’s tone-deaf wife; Trisha Carr Keeler as Bebe, Stacie Moye as Judy, Ron Blois as Mark, Charity Ferris as Vicki, Natalie Michaels as Tricia, and Janice Gabriel as Zach’s assistant, were all worth noting as well.

This is definitely one to go see. Take a picnic to Richter, this weekend or next, dress for the weather (it gets cold at night sometimes) and enjoy the show.

(Performances continue at Richter Arts Center, 100 Aunt Hack Road, until July 25.

Call 748-6873 or visit MusicalsAtRichter.org for details and reservations.)