Hot Feet, ultimately a rather good dance show conceived, directed and choreographed by Maurice Hines, throws us off by an over-zealous opening of dancers wigglin', jigglin', jumpin' and humpin' like really good cheerleaders with colorful Arabian Nights costumes (by Paul Tazewell). But a lot of it can be seen every weekend for free at Broadway and 50th Street. It takes a while for us to realize that they are doing a version of The Red Shoes and that there is a coherent show here. Ingenue Vivian Nixon is a marvelous dancer with amazing flexibility; leading man Michael Balderrama is like a Gene Kelly -- relaxed, casual, and a terrific masculine dancer (epitomized by his solo to "Oh, Love"), and their romantic pas-de-deux is quite lovely.
Wynnona Smith is strong in her comedy role, all the dancers are super, with most of the men built like body-builders. The lyrics, mostly from Earth, Wind and Fire, are banal, but the singers are good. The costumes are interesting but sometimes puzzling -- silver white for a number look like the sperms in a Woody Allen movie, black Robocop costumes for a number that look like The Borg from "Star Trek," futuristic jungle costumes. And there are some good visuals mixing light (by Clifton Taylor) and set (by James Noone). The actual "Red Shoes" number is high-level Broadway, there is a Wagnerian Opera finale, and, of course, they jump and jiggle again at the end.
I think the problem with the show is that they try to dazzle us to excess. A good show is buried in the excessive trappings.
