The heart of Billy Elliot is the universal power of dance. A miner's son in Northern England dreams of becoming a ballet dancer, a singular pursuit in a union town that champions collective action. Set against the backdrop of the year-long British coal miners strike in 1984, the musical delivers an emotional wallop. The evening belongs to Billy - and his quest is touching and thrilling.
Based on a 2000 film directed by Stephen Daldry and written by Lee Hall, who repeat their roles for Broadway, the show is sure to channel your inner dancer -- as it does with Billy's best friend Michael (David Bologna), his nutty grandmother (Carole Shelley) and his dance instructor's accompanist. Dance is liberating -- and that's a powerful theme in Billy's bleak, motherless world, where his father (Gregory Jbara) and brother (Santino Fontana) embody a rough masculinity he cannot emulate. Plus, Margaret Thatcher is determined to break the coal unions and the industry. It's too late for Billy's family; dance is his ticket out, thanks to a concerned teacher (beautifully played by Haydn Gwynn), who realizes the boy's gifts.
But Billy's journey means first pirouetting over class warfare. And while the musical belongs to him (the role rotates David Alvarez, Trent Kowalik and Kiril Kulish), it's a stark reminder that real talent is a rare commodity. (I saw Kowalik, who was nothing short of amazing.) The collective tragedy -- seeing a town and its workers destroyed -- resonates today. As Big Auto begs for a bailout, and fat cat executives blame the unions for their woes -- the British import has an added poignancy it may have lacked for Americans a year ago.
That's thanks to its very human story, rather than Elton John's music, which is solid '70s pop, not lilting Broadway melodies. Moreover, the musical's epilogue seems strangely out of place. It's an over-the-top afterthought at odds with Billy Elliot's essence, a paean to classic artistry, not cheap glitz. Still, the performances are uniformly terrific, and the direction is thoughtful and economical. This production is kitchen-sink realism elevated to art. Billy Elliot will move you to tears, then have you applauding like mad.
The Footage, now playing at the Flea Theater, will leave you mad -- at how manipulative people can be with technology. Joshua Scher's play underscores the nasty underbelly of YouTubers, particularly attention seekers unable to communicate in more conventional terms.
The play's title references a viral video currently on the Internet. In it, a young woman named Delilah (Elizabeth Alderfer) is kidnapped and tortured -- and her video audience is riveted by the sight. The disturbing scenario is a nod to "lonelygirl15," a real-life predecessor that garnered an obsessive Web following. Here, 20somethings, with names like Chance and Dodge, obsess over the hideous scenes. Are they real? Are they fiction?
Equally unnerving, Chance (Jamie Effros) pays more attention to the footage than he does to his girlfriend Maya (Caroline Hurley), who blogs furiously about how she is disgusted by -- but unable to stop watching -- the violence.
The Footage posits two stories simultaneously: Delilah's and her watchers; her audience is as captive as she is. Both reveal a generation more comfortable talking via computer than face-to-face. Though once clicked in, their discourse is often trite and emotionally arrested. Perhaps that's Scher's point. While The Footage takes time to find its footing, it raises provocative questions about the nature of intimacy and the dark side of the Net. It's staged by The Bats, the resident company of The Flea, and boasts respectable direction and performances; Hurley and Alderfer are especially strong.
Despite some narrative weaknesses, The Footage is compelling theater. It will haunt you long after you leave.