Film

Rip It Up, Issue 105, 1 April 1986, Page 26

Film

A CHORUS LINE Director: Richard Attenborough In many respects, Michael Bennett’s A Chorus Line is the ultimate American musical for the 70s. There are no stars, only the 16 hopefuls auditioning for the big show. In the process they are all

put on the line by the fascist/therapist figure of the Producer who ruthlessly exposes the chinks in their psychological armour. The young (and not-so-young) hopefuls range from the brassy, valium-downing veteran Sheila and the shy husbanddominated Kristine to the nervous young Latino gay, Paul. The opening of Attenborough’s film is galvanic in its energy as the short list in compiled from the perliminaries. Completely sustained through movement, there is little need for dialogue apart from the occasional barked direction from Terrence Mann’s assistant choreographer. With split-second editing and superb use of Dolby sound, it is a brilliant prologue. The main body of the musical seems less innovative in 1986 than it must have seemed in 1974. In the theatre the Producer remained a disembodied voice, in the film version this has been opened out into a role for Michael Douglas — a move that detracts from the impact of the musical, intruding between the players and the audience when the contact should have been uninterrupted. The confrontation between Douglas and Cassie (Alyson Reed) is one of the weakest aspects of the film.

There are, however, some superb set pieces: Charles McGowan catapulting into a dazzling rendition of ‘I Can Do That’ is the first, but Audrey Landers’ sly ‘Dance: Ten; Looks; Three’ is another. Occasionally, the songs dig a little deeper, as in Yamil Borge’s harrowing account of ‘Nothing: Performances are spoton, although Vicki Frederick as the sassy but statuesque Sheila and Cameron English’s touching portrayal of Paul stand out. The fantasy ending takes us from Broadway to Hollywood. Using mirros, Attenborough turns the reprise of ‘One’ into a Grand Finale of Busby Berkeley proportions, ironically the nearest that the film comes to the abstract stylisation which lies at the heart of Bennett’s original musical.

WILLIAM DART