Movin' Out

With the emphasis on "movin", let it be understood that this is a dance production, a modern ballet, not a Broadway musical or even a dansical, and it doubles as a Billy Joel concert. To make certain that this is immediately evident, Director/Choreographer Twyla Tharp trots out her entire corps of terrific terpsichoreans in an overture exhibiting her signature loose-limbed, free wheeling, flex-footed, arm-swinging, sprightly spiral movement, while, on a riser above, Michael Cavanaugh leads a ten-piece rock band by singing Billy Joel's signature rock anthem "Its Still Rock and Roll To Me." The statement is made, the mood is set.

The simplistic summary in the program outlines the relationships of a group of Long Island high schoolers, Brenda and Eddie, James and Judy, and Tony, from their adolescent angst and high jinks in the '60's, through their cruel coming of age in the Vietnam era of the '70's, and finally to their rehabilitation back into the psychic healing of the optimistic '80's. Their stories are basically trite, and attempts to give them heft by shoehorning them into Billy Joel's score (a la Abba in Mamma Mia!) barely work. Even if you know all the lyrics to the twenty-plus songs, the consistently "hot," overamped sound renders them obscure. (Obviously, sound designer Brian Ruggles's rock concert background overshadowed his partner, Peter Fitzgerald's, theater sensibility.)

This in no way describes the emotion elicited by Ms. Tharp in her admirable attempt to capture an entire generation through dance. The remarkable Elizabeth Parkinson seems to have more joints in her limbs than conventional anatomy would allow. Her ankles and feet have movements of their own, an exclamation point and/or afterthought added to each dance statement. As Brenda, who breaks up with Eddie (John Selya) and rebounds to his friend, Tony (Keith Roberts), then, when they are off to war, slips into the dejected decadence of the disillusioned on the Home Front, only to reunite with Tony and Eddie at production's end, the facile Parkinson delivers dramatic impact in each segment. No matter what the style, from sneakers to stilettos, she is breathtaking.

As Judy, Ashley Tuttle's descent from happily, newly engaged young woman to crazed war widow, after James (Benjamin Bowman) is killed in action, is heartbreaking.

The men are equally mesmerizing. John Selya has the toughest task when, as Eddie, he goes from happy go lucky womanizer, to a war casualty who flips out when James is killed during extraordinary battle scenes and is unable to connect afterward. His journey from brawn and bravado to pathetic societal drop out speaks volumes wordlessly. Keith Roberts utilizes his pretty-boy looks as Brenda's constant, quiescent lover, and his brawn as a soldier. In striking supporting roles, the legendary Broadway dancer Scott Wise lends humor and authority as the neighborhood cop and drill sergeant respectively. Former Ailey dancer Rika Okamoto is stunning as a Saigon prostitute and a war torn waif.

For the balletomanes, Tharp infuses her opus with insider dance jokes: the male friends toss off a balletic trio performing choreographic cliches usually reserved for ballerinas; and classic ballet is interrupted with breakdancing and even Michael Jackson's much popularized sky walk. The superb cast can "talk" in any idiom, some in jazz shoes, sneakers, en point, the men periodically tossing off multiple pirouettes (as many as 7 or 8 at a time) as a matter of course. I hear the alternate cast on matinees are equally wonderful.

Singer/musician Michael Cavanaugh pays homage to Billy Joel replicating his phrasing and timbre. In the diverse score, "We Didn't Start The Fire" achieves high drama and exposes a dark underside set, vis a vis the Vietnam war scenes. "Big Shot" and "Captain Jack" set the mood for the dancers' descent into a sordid S&M world. "Uptown Girl" has been relocated to Long Island, and "She's Got A Way" translates into a stunning split staging of two seedy bars, one in Saigon, the other in New York. Tony and Brenda reunite in the show's tender and rare quiet moment in "Shameless." And the rest of the score is integrated with varying success into the story. But Billy Joel recaptures the stage and the production totally with the unlisted musical epilogue as the riser lowers with the band, and Cavanaugh takes center stage at last with a stirring, uplifting rendition of "I'm In A New York Frame of Mind." A brilliant postscript very well received by the standing house.

It is testimony to the complexity of categorizing the production that the major tabloids have assigned reviews to their drama, dance and music critics. With the opera, La Boheme, en route, one wonders at the continual blurring of lines between Dance, Opera and Musical Theater productions on Broadway. Is the redefinition of our cultural art form, the Broadway musical, leaving it imperiled, impoverished, enhanced or liberated? Imagine how nonplussed a tourist or a theater novice would be after paying big bucks, expecting a "Broadway musical" and ending up with a dance and/or rock concert. As Broadway theater the show is a lightweight, as Dance/Music it is memorable.