Imagine if a job interview turned into a therapy session: “OK, your resume looks great, now tell us your childhood traumas.” What would be a cruel hiring process makes excellent theater. Every character desperately wants the job, and they’re willing to sing, dance and get vulnerable. That’s the premise of “A Chorus Line,” playing now through October 11 at Geva Theatre in a co-production with Barrington Stage Company under the direction of the Berkshires-based theater’s Artistic Director Alan Paul.
The Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning show premiered in 1975 and became the longest-running Broadway show of its time before being surpassed by “Cats” (it’s still the seventh longest-running show in Broadway history). The score by Marvin Hamlish and lyrics by Edward Kleban includes hit songs “Nothing” and “What I Did for Love.”
The plot follows a group of young dance professionals vying for a spot in the dance chorus. The rather unprofessional casting director Zach (played here by an understated Danny Binstock) asks them to share what’s not on their resumes. The songs and monologues that follow, which cover everything from parental neglect to sexual awakenings, were inspired by interviews choreographer Michael Bennet did with actual working dancers. Some of those original performers went on to have successful careers in entertainment, including Pricilla Lopez, who won a Tony playing Diana, and Kelly Bishop, who details her days of “A Chorus Line” in her memoir “The Third Gilmore Girl.”
This co-production stays true to the spirit and aesthetic of the original, with choreography by Parker Esse paying large tribute to the original iconic routines by Michael Bennett and Bob Avian. Set in an amorphous “any time” year, the unobtrusive costume design by Sarafina Bush nods to the original era without fully becoming a period piece. Bobby (Dalton Bertolone) looks straight out of the ‘70’s in a red bandana tied around his neck and retro patterned shirt; another dancer wears a “Today Tix” (the name of a current ticket selling website) tank top. There are some “oh, we don’t say that anymore” cringe moments from the ‘70s script, while the water bottles look suspiciously 21st century.
Whether it’s 1975 or 2026, the anxieties of the characters feel timeless. “Broadway is dying,” one dancer bemoans, echoing the essence of a recent viral post from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Instagram. The industry is tough: you don’t know when a show will open or close, and many hiring decisions are based on looks and connections. Even if the injustices of the industry could be fixed with a tip of the hat, there’s still the pesky issue of mortal bodies that get injured and age.
These anxieties take center stage from the frenetic opening number, when lights rise on a crowded rehearsal studio where 24 hopefuls learn a routine. The mirror faces the audience, as though we’re in the back row of the audition. With so many people onstage it can be hard to tell who is speaking or singing at times; even before they homogenize into the chorus line, there are hints they’re destined to become one.
The deceptively minimalist set design by Riw Rakkulchon never feels stagnant. Evocative lighting design by Cory Pattak and Kelly Martin brings to life scenes from the dancers’ memories, whether it’s a church, a strip club or a grand ballet. The 10-piece orchestra (conducted by music director Helen Gregory) bolsters the energy onstage.
Part of the show’s drama is the challenge of whittling down the full stage of auditioners to just eight who will get the gig. Everyone in this wonderfully mesmerizing cast is talented, even when they’re comedically messing up. They can all sing, though Gaby Albo as Diana stands out vocally with two of the show’s strongest songs. They can all act, as evident by the focused body language and facial expressions even when they’re not soloing.
Most of all, they can all dance. The thrill of a stage full of expressive, athletic dancers performing iconic routines feels like an instant dopamine rush. The bar is set high with Anthony DaSilva (Mike), evoking the charm of 1950s Hollywood musical leading man in “I Can Do That,” and never gets lowered. Jonah Nash (Richie) flings themself across the floor with a weightlessness mimicking flight. Deanna Cudjoe (Cassie), though, stands out (when she needs to) with a poised assurance that builds into her gorgeously emotive showstopping dance solo “The Music and the Mirror.”
During the final number “One,” which doubles as a curtain call, the performers come out for the professional routine. There’s something a little chilling about each idiosyncratic performer, even those who just lost the job, returning with matching smiles and razzle-dazzle superficiality. The opening night audience accepted it as a celebration with joyous applause. They weren’t cheering on the performance, but the humanity behind the job.
Occasional moments ring hollow — in particular, Cudjoe and Binstock lack the chemistry needed for Cassie and Zach’s tumultuous history to make sense. But overall, this production is sure to satisfy longtime fans of the show (if the audience members beside me delightedly singing along were any indication) while also making clear to first time viewers why the show has sustained 50 years.
“A Chorus Line” runs through October 11 at Geva Theatre. More info and tickets here.
Katherine Varga is a Rochester-based writer and arts educator. On an ideal day, you’ll find her biking to a library or theater.
