A CHORUS LINE: CHANGES, OH … By Peter Filichia
Fifty years ago this week, many musical theater fans were talking about one show and one show only.
A CHORUS LINE.
It had debuted at the Public’s Newman Theater on April 15, 1975, making many attendees ecstatically happy that they’d finished their taxes in time to attend.
What they saw wasn’t quite what Broadway witnessed for 6,137 performances (and what the rest of the world is still witnessing). As is always the case with musicals, not everything that composer Marvin Hamlisch and lyricist Ed Kleban originally wrote for the show wound up on the Shubert stage.
Some of what they discarded became better known ten years ago when the 40th Anniversary Celebration of A CHORUS LINE’s compact disc was issued. Bonus tracks were taken from work tapes that Hamlisch and Kleban made while writing what became their masterpiece (and director-choreographer Michael Bennett’s, too).
That CD has been just one of the many iterations of the score that has helped the recording reach legendary sales. A platinum recording is one that sells a million copies; ACL, as it’s chummily known, is approaching triple-platinum status.
“It’s All in Here,” the first bonus track, starts with Hamlisch’s distinctive voice warbling his way through a lyric-less melody.
After two minutes of scatting, he sings Kleban’s words in which the dancers tell what’s on their resumes. What fun to hear many names of the hits and flops of yesteryear.
We also hear “You have my photograph” immediately followed by “I hate my photograph.” Was the same person meant to make both statements or were two different auditioners commenting to director-choreographer Zach?
How fascinating to hear the line earmarked for Paul – “Who am I anyway?” – followed by “West Side Story!” Then, after “Am I my resume?” “My Fair Lady!” as other dancers cried out their credits. Perhaps these interspersed mentions were eliminated from fear that non-theater-centric audiences would feel alienated, and tune out of what they saw as an insider’s show.
If so, it was a wise decision. The main strength of A CHORUS LINE is that one doesn’t have to be a dancer to empathize with them. The show reminds us of the times we’ve all gone on interviews saying, “God, I hope I get it” and “I need this job.”
One reference to a Broadway musical did survive in “Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love.” Original cast member Baayork Lee told of her own real-life experience as the littlest child in the 1951 premiere production of THE KING AND I.
This might be news to those who only know the show from the original long-playing records, cassettes and 8-tracks. (Now you know it really has been 50 years.) “Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love” was severely abridged to fit on those formats, and THE KING AND I reference was one of the many casualties. What’s amazing is that the song was so beautifully edited that it didn’t seem to have a single word omitted. However, having it word-for-word as it was heard in the stage show was a delight that only came when CDs entered the recording world.
We’re told that a barometer of a good relationship is whether or not one person can finish the other’s sentences. That doesn’t bode well in “Sing,” in which Kristine is consternated that her husband Al won’t stop interrupting her.
Who knew that Hamlisch and Kleban originally wrote a verse for the song? They also had Al cue Kristine with a measure or two from a couple of songs that didn’t stay in the song en route to Broadway. The first tune is one you may have sung on a bus to summer camp, and the second is a Rodgers and Hammerstein standard. You won’t be surprised to hear that on these two others, Kristine can do no better.
“Joanne” has an auditioner give his story of how he got started as a dancer. It had all to do with a crush he had on a girl who was already taking dance class.
That’s not a far-fetched scenario. I’ve interviewed thousands of male singers and dancers, and hundreds have told me that they joined their high school’s drama club because it would be a good way to meet girls. Once they started rehearsing and performing, they got blessed and continued.
(Note: when you speak of becoming interested in musical theater, never say that you were “hooked” or that you “got the bug.” No – you were blessed.)
Does “Joanne” sound too much like “I Can Do That”? In fact, both were written for the same character: Mike. Although “I Can Do That” was in place when the show began performances, Wayne Cilento was given “Joanne” as a possible replacement. After he did it once, Bennett decided to return to the original song, which Hamlisch also sings on this recording.
But here’s the thing: after Hamlisch finishes “I Can Do That,” he gives a line from the original script that many will be glad or even grateful was dropped. Listen for it.
“Shoes” has a young dancer telling of her father’s incessant penchant for giving her shoes as a present. None made a terrific impression on her, but when tap shoes and toe shoes came along, well “I guess that’s why I’m here today.”
When Hamlisch sings “At the Ballet” and “One” (with Kleban), we hear that they’re the same songs that we’ve known and loved – with one exception. For the former, listen for the one different note that Hamlisch originally wrote. For the latter, it turns out that the phrase “numero uno” was once part of the song. While chances are great that the plan was to have the entire cast sing it, one wonders if even a second’s thought was given to having Morales, who references Puerto Rico and San Juan in “Nothing,” do it alone.
The official name of the last track is “Finale Ballad (What I Did for Love)” for good reason. Once again, Hamlisch is da-da-da-da-da’ing his way through his wordless melody. At least for this one song, we have the answer to the famous age-old and trite question: “Which comes first, the music or the lyrics?”
The selections also reveal that Hamlisch was a terrifically entertaining pianist. He didn’t just tickle the ivories but genuinely caressed them, too. Also keep an ear out to hear where orchestrations by Bill Byers, Hershy Kay and Jonathan Tunick followed Hamlisch’s lead and where they instead put their own imprints on the music.
And whether Hamlisch sang alone or with Kleban, he did it with brio that reveals his total confidence that he had a hit. But even Marvin Hamlisch couldn’t have imagined or even dreamed that A CHORUS LINE would become a surefire, genuine, walk-away, blockbuster, lines-down-to-Broadway, boffola, sensational, box-office-lalapalooza, gargantuan hit.
Peter Filichia can be heard most weeks of the year on www.broadwayradio.com. His calendar – A SHOW TUNE FOR TODAY: 366 Songs to Brighten Your Year – is now available on Amazon.
