June 19, 1997. A sad day indeed, for it was on this date that the furry felines of "Cats" surpassed "A Chorus Line" to become the longest-running musical on Broadway. 1997 also happens to be the last time "A Chorus Line" toured through San Diego, no doubt looking much the same as the current production that opened at the Civic Theatre on Wednesday night for a brief five-day run. But for those who prefer the honest, heartfelt stories of actual humans to the mindless cavorting of dancing kitties, any production of "A Chorus Line" is a welcome alternative to another visit to the Jellicle junkyard.

Paul (Kevin Santos, center) and Company

Copyright©2008 Paul Kolnik

The show's creator, Michael Bennett, may be gone, but director Bob Avian (Bennett's co-choreographer) replicates the look of the original 1975 production. Baayork Lee, who assisted Bennett and Avian (and originated the role of "four foot ten" Connie Wong) recreates the original choreography.

It all looks very much unchanged from that first groundbreaking production (there are enough grainy black-and-white video clips out there for those of us who were not yet around to get an idea), albeit with some minor changes and a youthful cast.

The changes that have been made to James Kirkwood and Nicholas Dante's original story of 17 dancers auditioning for spots in the chorus of a Broadway show are few. Thankfully, they serve more to eliminate references that have become slightly more obscure in the last three decades than to attempt to "update" the book -- a mention of bygone film goddess Lana Turner is replaced by one of Tina Turner, and saucy Val no longer aspires to be "the next Jill St. John" (remember her...?).

Mark (Jay Armstrong Johnson) & Greg (Denis Lambert)

Copyright©2008 Paul Kolnik

What remains are Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban's peppy mid-70s score (plus the 30s pastiche of their "singular sensation," "One"), and playwright Neil Simon's uncredited one-liners peppered throughout the book (like Diana's "...the Bronx? It's uptown and to the right!").

If the singing voices aren't always the strongest ever heard in "A Chorus Line," individual characters -- and there are many -- shine in this staging. In "At the Ballet," Hollie Howard brings an especially heartbreaking quality to Maggie's tale of a broken home. Kevin Santos finds all the ups and downs of Paul's confessional monologue, mining the bittersweet humor that underlies its sad truth.

With her sing-song delivery, Natalie Elise Hall makes the surgically-enhanced Val a squeaky-voiced, almost babyish vixen (though this baby happens to swear like a sailor!). And as Jersey boy Mike, Clyde Alves boosts the "wow" factor by adding some well-executed backflips to his exuberant song-and-dance turn in "I Can Do That."

Anthony Wayne might not be exactly "right" for Effie (click here to hear his "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going," with Zach [Michael Gruber] at the piano), but he sure does sing the heck out of Richie's "Gimme the Ball."

On opening night, understudy Erica Mansfield donned Cassie's red skirt, and though she fills the role serviceably, she doesn't really dance any better than anyone else on stage (nor -- and this is key with "veteran" Cassie -- does she look old enough to have been "in the business seventeen years").

Maggie (Hollie Howard), Sheila (Emily Fletcher) & Bebe (Pilar Millhollen)

Copyright©2008 Paul Kolnik

While Avian and Lee do a fine job with the overall look of this revival, perhaps -- and this is just conjecture -- they're a bit too "nice" behind the scenes. Bennett was notorious for manipulating those he worked with and for keeping his casts constantly on their toes, so to speak. Here, the spunky Diana (Gabrielle Ruiz) tells director Zach, "Of course I want the job," but it seems to come more from a sense of petulant entitlement than one of need. Sheila (tall and elegant Emily Fletcher) comes off not only as "too strong" -- as the character admittedly describes herself -- but as just a bit too nonchalant, so the impact of her final dismissal is lessened.

Theoni V. Aldredge's original costumes remain essentially unchanged, with the notable exception of Greg's (a scene-stealing Denis Lambert) sneakers and bright yellow shirt, here exchanged for a pair of knee-length boots and fitted black top more befitting Greg's fashion-forward sensibilities.

Natasha Katz's adaptation of Tharon Musser's original lighting still does the trick, clearly delineating characters' interior thoughts and "real-time" action, and when necessary, Robin Wagner's mirrors liven up the otherwise bare stage to great effect.

Richie (Anthony Wayne) and Company

Copyright©2008 Paul Kolnik

As I listened to the hollering cheers of an enthusiastic opening night audience, it remains unclear whether the show's glitzy finale, "One," will ever fulfill Bennett's stated intentions. It's been said that he wanted his audience to be just about "horrified" seeing 17 individuals rendered almost unrecognizable when mashed together in identical costumes into one faceless dancing entity. Perhaps in this day and age, audiences could use a less subtle, more "hit 'em on the head" approach to most readily get Bennett's point across.

Sure, the sparkly costumes and precision kicklines and grapevines backing up some unseen star are pure showbiz razzle-dazzle, but amidst all the whistling and rapturous applause, one might want to stop and think, for just one brief moment: at what price?

Consider it food for thought the next time you're watching some show with a talented, hardworking bunch like this dancing their hearts out behind some leading lady getting all the glory.

VIEW PROGRAM HERE (PDF)