Thursday, October 10, 2013

Fosse (Review of Stage Musical by Bob Racine)



                             2 hrs and 10 minutes in color
                                 Available from Netflix

Choreography!  In all likelihood everyone reading this has heard the word and chances are most of you can define it.  The art of Choreography is ages old, but I did not realize until very recently that the word did not take up residence in the English language dictionary until the 1950s.  And it was not put to unofficial public use in our country until 1936, when the immortal George Balanchine was credited with it in the opening stage production of the musical “On Your Toes.”  “Choreography by” Balanchine!  Before that the programs of stage productions read something like “Dances by” or “Dance Supervision by” or “Dance Designer.”  Of course any student of Greek is familiar with the two Greek words chorea (dance) and graphe (writing) from which the term is derived.  So Choreography is the practice of writing with dance, dance-writing, using configurations of dancers and dance steps to say something. 

For centuries the designation was confined for the most part to the classy, graphic art of formal nineteenth century Ballet.  Think “The Nutcracker!”  But by the 20th century modern influences came into the picture.  Think Jerome Robbins, Alvin Ailey, Gene Kelly! 

And think BOB FOSSE!     

What I offer for your consideration this time is “Fosse,” a posthumous two-hour-plus compilation of over twenty choreograph sequences from his most successful musicals, first staged in New York in 1999, twelve years after Fosse’s death – a stage musical production complete within itself!  Contrary to possible misunderstanding it is not a documentary study; it is all dancing, one number segueing into another without a break (except for intermission time).  Included is some of the work he did in the following: “Sweet Charity,” “Kiss Me, Kate,” “Cabaret,” “Chicago,” “Damn Yankees,” “The Pajama Game,” and “Pippin.”  He also created a show for the stage in 1978 with the modest title of “Dancin’ ” and designed a television special featuring the talents of Liza Minelli, called “Liza with a Z”.  Parts of these two are also included in this two-hour plus bonanza. 

His career spanned over thirty years.  He won numerous awards and nominations for awards, including the Oscars, the Emmys (one for “Liza with a Z”) and an unheard of eight nominations for a Tony.  He was Oscar nominated for movie director four times and won once – for the movie version of “Cabaret.”  Some of you may have seen the 1979 movie, “All That Jazz,” which he wrote and directed as a semi-autobiography, starring Roy Scheider.   Some of that film’s dance content also shows up in “Fosse.”

Bob had his performers doing things with the human body, both solo and in aggregate, for which there was no precedent.  Anything you can imagine a body could possibly do short of endangerment to life and limb he had his troop doing – and then some.  There are those, and I am one, who think he cannot be equaled, that no other dance master’s work has ever even approached his. 

Scores of words can be employed to describe the personality and temperament of his work:  lively, exuberant, jazzy, frisky, offbeat, fast-stepping, perky, acrobatic, furious, sassy, sometimes saucy, satirical, impish, often joyous, nonsensical, but almost always slyly funny.  The bodies that do the interpreting are lithe, loose, expressing themselves in all varieties of symmetrical and asymmetrical contortions.  Finger-snapping and leg-slapping play a huge part, as do hats.  He creates varied moods, but at the same time keeps his music and the dancing feet moving with an intense, driving force, aided by a most astounding use of lighting.  There is a huge stretch of imagination in every individual act; nothing is presented in one dainty dimension.  The basic maneuver or strategy is treated to multiple variations, often starting in simple steps but compounding into progressively more exciting and electrifying and sensational highs.  Watch “Fosse” and I suspect that your blood pressure would be given a great boost.   He transformed the art of Choreography, gave audiences worldwide a new way of looking at it.  He was also an actor, a dancer in his own right, director (stage and screen), screenwriter, and film editor.  What a career! 

Fosse the man died in 1987, twelve years before this posthumous tribute materialized.  One single stage performance of it was filmed, later shown on television and eventually published in DVD.  That is what you see on this disc.  The show, which in itself became a Tony winner in 2000, was put together by celebrated dancer Gwen Verdon, his third wife and partner, and by Ann Reinking, a member of his coterie almost from the beginning, who after Verdon’s untimely death became the show’s director.  Reinking knew Fosse’s work inside and out, all his techniques, all his disciplines, all his vision and intent, having been exposed to them first hand, and she made this sensational work to honor his memory and keep alive his name and his unique place in the pantheon of musical masters. 

The enjoyable advantage in watching the video is not having to sit through all the plays themselves, some of which are much better than others; a few of them I find rather inferior in terms of the storylines, which he had nothing to do with.  Of course it all depends upon individual taste.  But in all of them the Choreography is worth the price of admission.  Some great singers are heard along with the footwork, and the orchestration is first class at every turn.  Several different musical styles play a part – rock, ragtime, swing, blues, modern romantic, even boogie. The chief singer is Ben Vereen, a very colorful comedian and showman, a dancer himself who has been with Fosse ever since the first audition for hoofers took place under Fosse’s supervision in the 1950s.  He has style-plus and contributes quite a lot to the electric pacing. 

At curtain call I count twenty-nine members of the cast altogether.  What a costume nightmare somebody must have lived through and what a rigor beyond imagining to which the players had to submit changing their garb so many times, some of them with only a minute or so to make the switch.    

My favorite episode is a takeoff on the classic song, “Steam Heat.”  Two men and one woman do a crazy spin and tumble on romantic intimacy, stretching every nerve and fiber.  For me it is nothing short of a showstopper.  “I Wanna Be a Dancin’ Man” ranks high with me too, a masterpiece of coordination.  A duo from “Chicago” is fantastically good, an Emmy winner in and of itself.  Two shapely females sing of the tawdry values they enjoy in the so-called Roaring Twenties.  Have we not all heard of “Hey, Big Spender,” a highlight from “Sweet Charity?”  And nothing I know of in musical history can compare with the fifteen-minute-long finale, when everybody gets into the act, literally, accompanied by an onstage band.  What a jamboree that becomes!  It should carry you to the heights of watching and listening pleasure.  There is one act out of the bunch that I am not fond of, a very torrid bit of sashaying that comes close to being a sleazy striptease.  Some of you might want to fast forward through it.  The only solemnly serious piece is furnished by Vereen doing his touching and sad immortalization of “Bojangles” Robinson.
   
Do not form the misconception that Fosse is a clown or a leader of clowns.  There is no ambience of the circus here.  What you get is first class professionalism and artistry all the way.  Every segment is scrupulously crafted.  Actually the show is a three-act deal, and during the two intermissions we are taken backstage into the dressing room and treated to some personal sharing by Ann Reinking and Ben Vereen and two other women performers.  They give us some warm nostalgic conversation about the Fosse they knew and what made him the very best.  All give favorable report of how satisfying and supportive he was to work with.   

Vereen calls Fosse’s work a testimonial to life itself.  I always go away with the feeling that that is so.  In accord with that claim he sings, both at the show’s start and near its end, “Life is just a bowl of cherries, don’t take it serious, life’s too mysterious.  You work, you save, you worry so, but you can’t take the dough when you go... The sweet things in life to you were just loaned, so how  can you keep what you’ve never owned... So live and laugh, laugh and love... live and love and laugh at it all.”  I hope you who view it will feel, as you view, the aliveness and the love and the laughter.  I hope it does something for your soul.  You do not need a thinking cap for “Fosse”; a love of music, some tapping feet, an open heart and a sense of rhythm will be quite enough.
  
To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.

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