The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

It seems our obsession with "reality" entertainment dates back further than the likes of Big Brother, compelling Bravo shows, or even MTV's 90's cult-hit, the Real World. When New York native, Michael Bennett's created A Chorus Line in the mid-70's, based on the real recorded auditions of Broadway dancer, the concept of true-to-life drama was still revolutionary. It's insider glimpse into the characters behind the steps felt heartfelt, and the audience ate up every moment. It was critically acclaimed - receiving 12 Tony's and a Pultizer Prize for Drama - and became the fourth longest-running Broadway show in history. While the novelty of reality has slightly worn off, the entertainment level of former hits, like A Chorus Line, remain intact, if even only in our memories.

In the Orpheum's audience last Tuesday for opening night of the musical revival (which just finished its week long run Sunday),  one could easily toss A Chorus Line aside for not delivering the sort of "drama" and controversy we've begun to associate reality shows with. If someone isn't sucker-punching someone else, we lose interest rather quickly. But keep the political era Chorus Line was created during in mind and the production begins to be less about being seen as culturally relevant and more about celebrating the success a way-paving elder. After all, when original co-choreographer, Bob Avian, was entreated to modernize the revival's dance numbers he said, "I did the original. I cannot be asked to update myself." 

The show is performed on a stripped down stage, sans set design, except a few rotating mirrors, pointedly fixing audience attention on dialogue and performance rather than lofty props. The musical depicts an intimate audition of 19 dancers vying to be cast as the 4 final chorus members who soon learn the director is looking for more than just a few able-bodied dancers, but spirited dancers who embody the honesty behind the glamorous. The musical gains momentum when, Zach, the stage director, in sensitive father-esque voiceover implores the dancers to be more than just faces in the crowd and truly open up to him. What follows is a series of entertaining song and dance numbers where the characters' soap opera pre-audition drama border between the comical and the maudlin, the best of which includes a  hilarious "Dance: Ten; Looks: Three" number, where a female dancer unabashedly tells the tale of the elaborate nip-tuck procedures she's gotten done to get ahead in the biz. Even while she's singing about her new "tits and ass," the not-so funny the prejudiced truth of the aesthetically driven show-biz world hangs like laughter above our heads. And the center show monologue, main character, Paul's coming-out story, although a bit forced during the performance, is more affecting when you factor in Bennett's real life battle with AIDS, the disease which ultimately lead to his death in '87.

Taken out of context, A Chorus Line is just another melodramatic, cheesy tap-dancing montage. But pieced together, like it was meant to be seen, it has all the pizzazz a reality show needs to last a lifetime. You don't need to be a dancer to appreciate this one, just a human with a sweet spot for flamboyance. Viva reality!