Dance: 10! Looks— also 10! (Yes, yes, the lyrics to that song are “…Dance: 10; Looks: 3…”) but that’s so not the case when it comes to the overall look of Dundalk Community Theatre’s A Chorus Line. They’re really delivered a delightful smash of an iconic musical show; the perfect way to round out the season. Directed by John Desmone with Musical Direction by Nathan Scavilla, and Choreography by Vince Musgrave, this stellar tale of the struggles of being ‘on the line’ in the world of 1970’s Broadway is a vision beyond the glamour and splashy glitz of what ‘Broadway musicals’ and life in the theatre as a dancer is all about. Under the stunning direction of John Desmone, a core company of 17 performers bare their souls through song and dance and enchant the audience from the moment the curtain rises through to the finale, featuring a sensational, meticulously crafted, unending kick-line. Loaded with heart and earnest vulnerability, this production of A Chorus Line is hands-down, the best show Dundalk Community Theatre has produced since returning to live, in-person performances.

Master Aesthetician (responsible for scenery, lights, and all of that jazz) Marc Smith has created the deceptively simple “dance studio” look for this production of A Chorus Line. The mirrored wall backing, the trifold drop-in mirror, and the marvelously shining ‘ending’ lights, are all a part of Smith’s master plan. There isn’t much by way of ‘razzle-dazzle’ in this show’s production elements; flashy set pieces and lighting cues aren’t needed to reveal the heart and true nature of the story. Smith’s lighting is spot on, however, with intimate follow-spots on faces when the moment calls for it or cooler overall washes in blue when a more emotionally deep number is felt. And without spoiling the ending, there is a whole lot of sparkle and shine that just puts the perfect coda on the show as a whole, finally getting to see that rounds out the entire experience. Eva Grove, the show’s costume coordinator, gives that sense of verisimilitude when it comes to seeing actors ‘on the line’ waiting for their chance to shine at auditions. Lots of leotards, dance pants, and the occasional outfit that ‘just doesn’t fit the bill’ for someone trying to become ‘one of the chosen.’ Where Grove’s work really outdoes itself is with the company outfits featured for the closing. They are all the flash and splash one expects from a great big Broadway show.

Director John Desmone brings home the story of A Chorus Line like no other; yes there are musical numbers and a boatload of impressive choreographic routines, but at its heart this musical is about the real experiences of why these people are pursuing their dreams of dancing on Broadway. The show is populated with little moments— often buried in big musical montages— where these characters have to expose themselves. Under Desmone’s seasoned direction, you are living these stories as if they were your own. They become relatable anecdotes derived from a place of truth deep within the character. Desmone keeps the ‘performative’ nature out of these heavier, emotionally grounded moments, but balances that with some of the hilarious humor scripted into the show. There’s a great deal of absurd pantomiming when one character is still ‘telling their story’, albeit silently, and the rest of the company is singing and these moments become hysterical for the audience.

Musical Director Nathan Scavilla fills the auditorium with joy, raising up the voices of a moderate sized company and making it sound like you’re hearing the national tabernacle choir. The balance of pit to performers is perfectly weighted, the harmonies are perfectly blended, and the overall vocal quality of the show is phenomenal. That moment when the show begins— “I Hope I Get It”— the sheer desperation of needing-to-work-dancers thrums through the song as they sing. Scavilla captures a great many emotions in the vocal work of the ensemble, often overwhelming the play space with feeling. Those performers who have full-length featured solos are given their moment in the limelight; pitch and tonal control is meticulously measured and everything just sounds as impressive as it looks; it’s hard to believe that this reflects the work of a community theatre, such is the level of professional sounds emanating from the stage.

If you want your jaw to drop and your hands to hurt from applauding at the dancing, you’ve come to the right show with Vince Musgrave’s choreography proudly on display. When one thinks A Chorus Line, the immediate go-to is “that dancer musical.” Musgrave delivers perfection— even when it’s intentionally flawed perfection at the very beginning of the production. You get the high-octane, full-blast, all-in style choreography that dominated musicals during the 1970’s (and still does today in some shows) on ready display every time the company is in motion. (You can even see Musgrave on stage in the beginning before the ”initial cut” is made as the spastic, arm-flying, none-too-polished dancer, who does not make the cut. How incredibly impressive it is to watch someone of great dancing talent have to purposefully dance poorly; it’s also hilarious.) As the show steamrolls into its masterpiece— “One”— the execution of the choreography is breathtaking; robotic and meticulous in every kick, every step, every turn. It’s harrowing and simultaneously beautiful to watch— the deindividualization of these unique performers all amassed as one, kicking, stepping, dancing machine. Musgrave plays to both the strength of the show and the strength of his performers, having amassed an incredible bench of dancing talent for this production. It’s choreographic radiance and brilliance all in one.

 A Chorus Line is the most classic full-ensemble piece of musical theatre that really weights all performances equally. (Even those who don’t make it beyond the first cut— including Cayley Causey as Vicki, Alex Velasco as Tom, Kirby Jahn Nielsen as Roy, Katelyn Dixon as Lois, and Brian Kraszewski as Frank.) All of the voices come together to carry the show at one point or other; it is a performance of individuals and of the unified group. Some people only have small singing solos— like the popping, hopping Richie (Eric Bray Jr.) whose dynamic vocals— astonishing and impressive as they are— get featured during ‘Montage, Part 4’. Bray Jr. delivers all the range and attitude during his solo moment and balances that with some sincerity when he’s later asked “what would you do if you couldn’t dance anymore?”

The equally impressive Tyler White, playing Mark, shows up in ‘Montage, Part 1: Hello, Twelve’ giving the audience a taste of his glorious singing voice as well as his animated facial expressions and gymnastic physical capabilities when it comes to almost bending over backwards. Derek Cooper, as Don, gives a similar, animated performance with pantomime gestures, as does Seth Fallon as Bobby when launching into “And.” Fallon’s recurring “…be a movie star…” line is sung with such crystalline clarity that you really believe he could be exactly as he sings. Bray Jr., White, Cooper, and Fallon all have wildly expressive bodies, giving the audience a great deal to giggle over when it comes to their non-group pantomime-style moves.

Each person on the stage brings a distinctive character to life but in such a believable and honest way that you feel as if these could just be actors being themselves on stage for your entertainment. Some are cocky, like Fallon’s Bobby. Some are loaded with defensive characteristics— like Patricia Anderson’s Connie and Lacy Kraszewski’s Val, with Anderson’s character maintaining a cool and collected composure even when things don’t go her way (watch her tap routine towards the end of the production for a great example of this.) Others are bubbly and awkward— Lizzie Detar’s Judy, who can’t remember if she has a number or not and then shakes that chipper simplicity when given her vocal feature during “And”— and others still have a raging flamboyancy about them— Stephen Foreman’s Greggory, who narrates a tale that really pulls you into it the whole way. It’s an enormous melting pot of personalities who all shine together and individually; the story-telling is as important and focused upon as the singing and the dancing and there are tens across the board in all departments.

The pinnacle example of triple-threat performance comes from Coby Kay Callahan’s Shelia. The character is the oldest dancer on the line, with diva attitude for miles, and when she’s not ‘smiling-for-dance’ Callahan is serving up serious ‘RBF’ with a chip on her shoulder the size of 42^nd street. Callahan’s character structure is nuanced— it’s not just a caricature of a bitter, older dancer desperate for a job masquerading as a sexed up sasspot. Story transitions seamlessly into song as Callahan takes the first segment (and lower harmonies) of “At the Ballet.” Using her voice like a brush, painting a vivid, lucid picture of Sheila’s experience in this song, Callahan readily unleashes this heartfelt vulnerability that is almost inconceivably incompatible with Sheila’s jaded exterior. With exacting comic timing, her zingy one-liners— often in response to Zach (the in-show director/choreographer character) are bitingly hilarious. And when she dances, the years of experience that her character is meant to portray flow naturally all through her limbs and body language. She’s not afraid to showcase her sensuality, sexuality, and overall sassy behavior at the blink of an eye. (Seriously— watch her in a bunch of silent little moments when she’s using her facial expressions to judge literally everyone else on the stage.)

“At The Ballet” is rounded out by Bebe (Julia L. Williams) and Maggie (Abby McDonough) who follow Callahan’s lead in painting a striking aural picture of their character’s experiences. McDonough has one of the most beautiful vocal solos of the production at the tail-end of this musical number; her powerhouse vocals and sustained belt are definitely going to take her places. Both Williams and McDonough have delicate stage presences but strong vocal capabilities that can be experienced all throughout the performance. Williams, whose shy character doesn’t give one much hope for a weighted solo of this caliber, stuns and surprises everyone with her bitter flavoring to the words she sings and her overall vocal control and delivery of her verse and harmonies.

While “At The Ballet” is one of the more beautiful and grounded and emotionally weighted numbers in the production that’s not to say there aren’t some nonsensical feel-good tunes as well. “Sing”, which features poor Kristine (Hunter Lubawski) squeaking and speaking her way through the entire tune because her character is just too nervous/incapable of ‘singing’, is equal parts comedic and endearing. Not only do you get to hear Lubawski patter her way through the number (and yes, she can actually sing as she’s a well-blended supporting voice on all of the other company-fueled numbers) but you get to hear Alex Gubler as ‘Al’— Kristine’s husband— show off his almost operatic tenor tones filling out the notes where the Kristine character cannot. The same comedic shenanigans are true for Val’s (Lacy Kraszewski’s) “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three.” While Kraszewski proves she can sing as Val just fine, the number is just a spitfire execution of “…if you’ve got it; flaunt it…if you don’t got it; buy it and flaunt it…” and Kraszewski sells the audience on this concept quite convincingly.

“I Can Do That”, a jazzy, up-tempo fun-loving number that kicks off the personal introductions is delivered with great spirits— both vocally and choreographically— by Chris Weaver, as Mike. With a hint of an accent for his straight-laced storytelling, Weaver rolls right into this number with all of the jittery excitement you need for this song to be a success. While the character of Paul (Mark Johnson Jr.,) doesn’t get a whole featured solo song, you get to hear moments of his singing that just pierce the soul— particularly during “And.” But with the Mark character it’s all about the raw vulnerability that Johnson Jr. brings to the stage— telling the longest narrative experience of the production. He delivers it with such sincerity you can’t help but wipe away the tears when he reaches the story’s conclusion.

With good vocals, Diana (Alyssa Bell) is an odd duck— trapped halfway between wanting to a larger-than-life personality and wanting to just be herself. Leading “Nothing” (credited as the second montage of the never-ending montage that leads into the intermission) you hear that Bell sings with her emotions leading the charge. That crystal clear note that gets dropped at the top of “What I Did For Love” is another impressive accomplishment achieved by Bell in this production, again showcasing that the emotional gravity with which she sings is fierce.

It couldn’t be A Chorus Line without the Cassie (Amy Luchey) character; the outlier who doesn’t belong in the bunch— not because she doesn’t desperately need the job or want the work— but because she made it out. You don’t get plucked out of ‘the line’ and then go back to ‘the line.’ It’s just not done. Luchey valiantly delivers the agony of the struggle— and not just the struggle of rising up from the group only to fall back to the group (proving that there is no shame in doing so and that it isn’t her who won’t have ‘the line’ it’s ‘the line’ who might not take her back)— but the trials and tribulations of romantic inveiglements and truly discovering why you’re dancing and what or who you are dancing for. When she starts to sing the first half of “The Music and The Mirror” her body is almost stone still, with powerful sounds radiating from her without the slightest hint of movement. This creates such a sharp contrast to when she dances through it that you can see why her character was meant to be a dancer.

The under-sung heroes of A Chorus Line are Larry (Peter N. Crews) and Zach (E. Lee Nicol.) With Nicol playing the ‘in-show’ Director/Choreographer (and spending a good deal of time off-stage being a disembodied voice who keeps prodding the ‘kids’ with questions) it’s easy to forget that he’s the driving force behind everything happening on stage. And he can dance and hold his own with the rest of them, moving fleetly and swiftly through these moves with the precision that he’s demanding of these young kids who are auditioning. And if you think Nicol can move— all eyes must divert to Peter N. Crews as Larry— the ‘audition assistant’. He teaches the dance. And when they move into “One”— the Zach character even says “…watch Larry, he has the exact 30’s style I’m looking for…” and Crews 100% lives up to that line-description. Flawless in his choreographic execution, his precision with arms and legs and positions is phenomenal. The pair are also seen joining the full company “Bows & One Finale” and never miss a step.

Truly a singular sensation— this production of A Chorus Line at Dundalk Community Theatre. It’s full of heart, full of feeling, full of beautiful sounds and amazing dance routines. This is the must-see of the season, possibly in the whole of the county. Do not miss this one singular sensation as it runs for only two weekends.  

Running Time: Approximately 2 hours and 30 minutes with one intermission

A Chorus Line plays through May 22, 2022 Dundalk Community Theatre located on the campus of the Community College of Baltimore County Dundalk in the John E. Ravekes Theatre— 7200 Sollers Point Road in Dundalk, MD. Tickets are available for purchase by calling the box office at (443) 840-2787 or by purchasing them in advance online.