|
|
 |
    
THE TIMELESS FOSSE
(continued)
There's a subtlety to Fosse's work that one forgets about until seeing it again; in "Rich Man's Frug" from "Sweet Charity," the women wear black, thigh-grazing sequined dresses and the men look splendidly slick in smoking jackets (they puff away throughout the piece -- Fosse was certainly fond of his cigarettes) and bow ties. But these dancers don't stomp and hiss their way through the movements; they glide through their pelvic thrusts and backward leans -- a Fosse trademark in which a dancer extends one foot in a pretty tendu and tilts back, elbows up and wrists cocked sensuously. Their movement has a sultry richness that fits right into this hipster party. It makes sense.
It's telling, though not surprising, that Fosse didn't believe in allowing dancers to mark material; according to Reinking, whose reminiscences are seamlessly included between acts, during rehearsals dancers were expected to perform every phrase full-out. Reinking, who is largely responsible for bringing the choreographer's work back to the stage, explains its paradox. "It's elegant, yet it's very funky," she says. "It's fragile, yet it's also quite tough. It has a fragile weight. It's sensual, yet it's witty. One of the things he loved about Gwen, ... he said she was so sensual, but she always had a twinkle in her eye and a wink."
There is an ironic glint in all of his sexy, gritty numbers, but perhaps the most compelling quality of Fosse's body of work is its affectionate reference to vaudeville. Born in Chicago, Bob Fosse was the son of a vaudevillian and by the age of 13 was already performing as part of a professional dance act called the Riff Bros. Choreographers who create raunchy burlesque acts in nightclubs all owe him some credit. But Fosse, from the time he was in high school, experienced seedy backstage life firsthand. He choreographed his first burlesque number at 15 (it was set to Harold Arlen's "That Old Black Magic"), inspired by the dancers he met at the dive clubs where he performed. In "Fosse," what remains is the showstopper "Who's Sorry Now?" from ALL THAT JAZZ, in which a group of women, wearing skimpy leotards and high heels and fanning their ostrich feathers with utmost precision, suddenly transform the stage into a glamorous 1930s movie set. That such a breadth of style is on display in one show is bewitching, and that is the true joy of "Fosse."
Fosse himself was fearless in the way he choreographed and directed as well as the reckless way he lived his life. In 1987, he met his early death (at the age of 60) during a revival of "Sweet Charity" in Washington, D.C.; he collapsed on the street after his heart gave out. A year before, Fosse had been disappointed by the failure of his final Broadway show, "Big Deal." Around that period (1986), he said, a bit prophetically: "I like not exactly sad, but melancholy endings. They seem more true to life."
His own life was tinged with such sadness, but the only real nod to it in "Fosse" is Vereen's bittersweet rendition of "Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries" from "Big Deal." A Fosse veteran and friend, Vereen knows how to deliver the lines:
Life is just a bowl of cherries
Don't take it serious, life's too mysterious
You work, you save, you worry so. ...
...
So live, laugh and love, live and laugh at it all.
There's emotion in his voice, but not sentiment. Fosse would have appreciated that.
Top banner photos: "I Gotcha" from the TV special LIZA WITH A 'Z' (Byron Easley, Rachelle Rak, and Ken Alan); Meg Gillentine in "Steam Heat" from "The Pajama Game"; "Razzle Dazzle" from "Chicago" (Rachelle Rak, Ben Vereen, and Susan Lamontagne). |
|
 |
 |
A close-up of dancer and singer Rachelle Rak. |
 |
 |
|
"Rich Man's Frug" from the 1966 musical
"Sweet Charity." |
|
 |
|
