Nothing makes you feel older than when a film that your younger sister had on VHS tape comes to the West End stage. Now I was never a fan, preferring indeed the much more manly viewing habits of Grandstand, Streethawk, Airwolf and The Mysterious Cities of Gold, but I firmly believe that, at a push, I could quote the lines and sketch out the plot. You see my sister and her mates LOVED this film and it might well have been on direct feed to the TV at my mum’s. There was no escape from the post-pregnancy tears, the annoyance when Baby gets put in the corner and the claps, whoops and cheers for “the lift”. The only relief from the pain was when my Mum turned Neighbours on (thank heaven for Kylie and Jason). I genuinely believe that the decision to ask for a tv for my bedroom was inspired by my disgust of the original movie.
However as the years passed, my musical tastes have changed. You see I was raised in a house where there was only one type of music allowed and that was Motown. And the queen of my mum’s house was Diana Ross (until my mum thought Diana had got a bit past her best, should dress her age and really should cut her hair – those in the know call this the post chain reaction cull). I tried to rebel but after uni I found myself wearing flares, loving Northern Soul and combining my cd cases with Edwin Starr and Oasis (a perfectly acceptable mix for a film student).
So now I find myself in a quandary: I secretly love the soundtrack (but not Time Of My Life) but have never cared for Johnny and his clan. So when offered the chance to review the musical version what do you do? Do you go all 1980s man and dismiss the musical as only for girls (who, by the way, don’t all smell - ignore what I said when at primary school) or do you act all metro sexual and get in touch with your feminine side? We’ll I’m scared of my sister, my cousin Sharon and my mum and they would never ever forgive me if I said no; so I went all pink for a night.
Now I tried to prepare myself for a night with the girls. I drank rose wine before I went, I popped into the shops in Covent Garden and I was late for the show. This was a bad move. You need to be on time. Dirty Dancing is a power musical. The girls are prepared. Forget event movies, this is event theatre. They arrive mob handed and have really, really studied the show. Every hip move, hair shake and much quoted line has been committed to memory. There is no one here on the off chance, everyone has come to see their favourite part and has the order of them down pat. They cheer, cry and scream as one. They hope and dream as one, in the off chance that they don’t learn the lift in a lake, that she doesn’t really say “I carried a watermelon”! Drag out your finery ladies as you really won’t feel out of place. And bring the girls, because this will be lost on your boyfriend. He won’t understand (or maybe care) when she’s tickled by Johnny’s deft touch. And warm up your vocal cords, because instead of singing every word; you will be saying every line. There is not a lady in the building tonight who doesn’t own her own copy of the script buried deep in the darkest reaches of her brain.
It’s faster than you think it will be, skipping quickly from one iconic scene to the next. Nothing is missed and the actress playing Baby really does get her mannerisms down. It is identical. When Jennifer Grey laughed, she laughs, when Grey tapped her feet she taps her feet. While Johnny gets the most attention, it is his female support cast that get the biggest ovations. Baby’s sister and Penny are the standouts in the show, both for comedy and dancing ability.
I still had a great time (even though it is not really aimed at me) but by the smiles on the faces of the girls in my row, they had an amazing time. If I have to give you girls any advice, it would be to watch the film again before you go. Trust me it won’t spoil the experience, it will just remind you how much you loved this the first, second, eight, eleventh (and more) time you watched this with your friends. And yes, they do have the waterscene!
Sean Collins
Sean moved back to the UK after living all over the world for years. He basically writes about shows, booze filled antics, about avoiding tourists and not paying top whack to get in anywhere. He still misses Mark and Lard being on Radio 1 and is possibly the clumsiest person in the Northern Hemisphere. Also he is stupidly scared of dogs and thinks that everyone needs at least 7 cups of coffee a day to keep their heart running (all with biscuits to dunk of course).
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