REALITY CHECK OUT

A note from the Ladies: In light of recent events, we have decided to enter into a fantasy life with Bob Fosse. If we are going to live in a fantasy world, we are going pick the one we want. So if you see us, we will be in black, bell-bottomed jazz pants, a leotard and dance booties, flashing a suggestive jazz hand. It's showtime, folks! See you after the curtain.

Here, wives, lovers and collaborators enter and exit, argue and repair. An exquisite apparition, dressed in white, flirts and jokes about death. Suits pressure for commercial appeal and Fosse overwhelms them with glorious bodies undressing, entwining, serpentine, sliding through an unseen Garden of Eden into ecstasy. Ann Reinking, with her raspy giggle of a voice and crazy long legs, in a top hat and white men’s shirt, mugging in an at-home vaudevillian romp. Even the casting couch is oddly perfect, with the roles of seducer and seduced locked in a complicit embrace. A muddy rainbow of Danskins, squeezed over flesh-colored tights...

We know, we shouldn't be in here right now, that there better uses of airtime. But for a moment, we want to try to get lost in something imperfect and good. So here we are, hips cocked, wrists flicked, hat tipped.

5, 6, 7, 8 and...

 

ALL THAT JAZZ