Burn the Floor
We’ve come a long way from Arthur and Kathryn Murray waltzing around the TV screen and Fred and Ginger lighting up the movies. Next to “Burn The Floor,” the current homage to ballroom dance now playing at the Longacre Theatre, those oldies (classic as they are) seem positively archaic.
Director/choreographer Jason Gilkison does insert a softer touch with a couple whirling around the floor: he, a Derek Jeter look-a-like in a tuxedo, and she, a tall willowy brunette in a long gown, cozy as they circle the stage to bring alive the memory of those good old days. However, most of the nearly two hour extravaganza is down and dirty dancing that disguises the actual steps of the Rumba or Tango with a lot of sweat and fluff. Much is lifted right out of the ballet vocabulary.
The choreography is limiting and often redundant, but palatable for its entertainment value. There are only so many times the ladies can kick up a gorgeous leg then fall into an arch over a partner’s supportive and muscular arm without the audience getting a bit glassy eyed. But, the legs are beyond a sculptor’s dream, and the men have tight-muscled arms and torsos to match. The picture is pretty appealing.
The show consists of what is loosely titled “Standard Dances” (Waltz, Foxtrot, Tango and Quickstep) and “Latin Dances” (Cha Cha, Samba, Paso Doble, Rumba and Jive). Each is chock-full of stomping, pulsating movement. The music and the program notes keep the viewer clued in to what is happening.
The real interest in this compilation of dances comes from the performers, a representation of great dancers from all parts of the globe. Every one of them is strong and efficient, with a computer-like memory. The men must be constantly on the alert; grabbing a partner seconds too late could spell disaster. If there is a damper to be noted in the dancing, it is the facial expressions of some of the dancers. Awkward and phony facial contortions do not enhance a particularly arresting move. Bob Fosse, whose stylistic choreography is brought to mind at times, kept the deadpan look of his dancers and let the legs do the talking. Less pouting, less snarling, and less of a look of ominous attack (both by men and women) would be more appealing.
Among the men, Russian-born Sasha Farber shows an honest joy in everything he does. Giselle Peacock has an explosive technique that keeps the viewer riveted. None of the women swivel their hips quite like her, although the women never take a step without tossing the pelvis on the supporting leg in an exaggerated runway walk.
“Burn The Floor” begins with a bang, loud drumming music, lots of skin, angry expressions and sexy moves. The program is a bit of this, and a bit of that—a revue format. It peaks with the finale: a brilliant “Proud Mary” openly copied from the Queen herself, Tina Turner. This piece captivates the audience. The sparkling mini-dresses by Janet Hine (based on the original design by John Van Gastel) dazzle under Rick Belzer’s swirling lighting design, as the dancers, planted on high heels, shake their booty in homage of the fabulous Ms. Turner. After that, theatergoers headed up to the exits shaking and clapping themselves.