The Stage

Stepping Out

Published Friday 23 April 2010 at 12:43 by John Thaxter

When I first reviewed this Richard Harris comedy at Richmond a quarter century ago I called it England’s answer to A Chorus Line.

But while the Broadway hit musical remains a timeless portrait of desperate professionalism, this touring revival is a time capsule of dated social mores among an ill-assorted group of ladies, sharing Tuesday evenings at a tap-dance class in a north London church hall.

Ken Harrison’s overcrowded setting puts a huge unseen mirror on the fourth wall to let us eavesdrop on moments of aspiration and self-deception as the class goes from tacky incompetence to semi-slick line-up at the grand charity gala.

In 1984 the cast was chosen primarily for its acting ability. This time around every actor has musical theatre experience except for Karen Traynor whose squeaky Miss Mouse from the DHSS proves a natural born hoofer in the finale.

The leads are slender Anita Harris as the comedy catalyst Vera, snobbish and compulsively house-proud, whose every well-meaning remark sets nerves jangling, especially those of Johanne Murdock’s shy do-gooder whose outburst provides a climactic moment and Brian Capron as the token male, changing into his dance togs behind the notice board.

Lucy Williamson, light on her toes, is well cast as the ex- chorine who runs the class with the help of Janet de Vigne’s lugubrious pianist, while Katie Kerr plays the plump blonde bandying cruel one-liners.

But while lewd gestures and the F-word get coarser prominence than I recall, my problem with Richard Baron’s revival is its offhand delivery of the character delineating lines. Mumbling together in corners is no way to capture an audience.