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E N Q U I R E R   L O C A L   N E W S   C O V E R A G E
Wednesday, September 27, 2000

Theater review


Fosse is both brilliant and commonplace.

By Jackie Demaline

The Cincinnati Enquirer

        Fifth Third Bank Broadway Series opens its 2000-2001 season with Fosse, a paean to the famed choreographer, on stage at the Aronoff Center through Oct. 8.

        It's got all the moves — the finger snaps, the shoulder rolls, the shimmies, the shrugs, the pumping hips, the splayed fingers in white gloves, the goose steps, the derbies, the turkey necks, the arms swaying behind the body, the sashaying tushies.

        It's all danced in clingy, skimpy basic black, except for the third act white-on-white fan dance to “Who's Sorry Now?”

        There are endless belly buttons and muscled torsos to admire, but as Fosse enters its third hour, actually long before it enters its third hour, some of you are going to be asking yourselves, "is that all there is?' Yes. That's all there is.

        That and Reva Rice's impressive pipes. If you're lucky, you'll remember Ms. Rice from the national tour of Smokey Joe's Cafe. While most of Fosse is pure dancin', and in fact seven of the numbers are lifted from Dancin', most of the vocals, from “Bye, Bye Blackbird” to “Mein Herr,” fall to the lush-voiced Ms. Rice.

        In a revue that celebrates dance, Ms. Rice shouldn't be, but she is, the highlight of the show, especially as she opens and closes the evening with “Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries.”

        Fosse is a peculiar mix of the brilliant and the commonplace.

        Show dance doesn't get better than the too-brief 45 seconds of “From This Moment On” from the beginnings of Bob Fosse's career, way back in 1953 when he and Carol Haney stole the movie Kiss Me Kate out from under its stars with a glory of a duet that shouted of youth and exuberance and athleticism.

        Alas, as Bob Fosse got older, his art turned darker and self-replicating. Too much of Pippin looks like too much of Cabaret looks like too much of Chicago. Stacked together as they are, it's impossible not to notice.

        Fosse handmaiden Ann Reinking — she's spent the 14 years since his death keeping the legend alive — co-directs and co-choreographs the revue and she could and should have made some better choices.

        By the time Fosse was choreographing for Dancin', a lot of his work was disappointing: a couple of attempts at ballet only prove that Bob Fosse was no Jerome Robbins; “Mr. Bojangles” is actually creepy, with its pretense at feeling. His salute to Fred Astaire, “Dancin' Man,” is empty flash.

        The one strong piece from Dancin', set to the irrepressible, irresistible brass blast of Benny Goodman's Sing, Sing, Sing rightfully closes the show.

        The intriguing thing about Bob Fosse is that his muses did as much for him as he did for them.

        It it was his collaboration with the incandescent Gwen Verdon that made him a star. Turning to Hollywood and directing kept him a star, particularly when he and Liza with a Z teamed up in a movie called Cabaret. A killer star turn from Bebe Neuwirth in the revival of Chicago added new polish to his reputation.

        The point being that Bob Fosse dance looks best when the people dancing it have star power, the kind of wattage that reaches across the stage and grabs the audience.

        You won't find that here. Fosse boasts an ensemble of more than a dozen fine dancers, but the charisma factor is low.

        The lone stand-out to my eyes is dance captain Dylis Croman who is perfection in a handful of numbers including “Hey, Big Spender” and “Rich Man's Frug,” both from Sweet Charity.

        Fosse, Fifth Third Bank Broadway Series, Aronoff Center Procter & Gamble Hall, through Oct. 8. 241-7469.

       



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