Every Little Step

I don't know if you can appreciate this movie if your mother is not my mother. Disclosure: my mom is a total Broadway/dance/Rockettes nut. She loves all things showy and glittery and beautiful. She's the reason I took dance classes as a girl and why all of her kids grew up dancing to The Pointer Sisters or Boy George or Lionel Ritchie or any other record (yes, record) she would put on. And, we kids never danced alone. I still remember being five years old, home alone with my mom after a half day of kindergarten, stripping down to my underpants and dancing with my mom. The Rockettes were the most beautiful women in the world to her, and she thought that getting a job as a topless Vegas dancer was the highest achievement possible (over academia or other traditionally corporate professional pursuits).

So, I have a special place in my heart for the Dancer's plight, and this movie is all about "making it." Every Little Step is a documentary about the audition process and also the history of the play, A Chorus Line. I've seen the movie (and I would like to see the play), and I think that it's necessary to be familiar with the story of A Chorus Line to appreciate this documentary. A Chorus Line, the play, is about dancers getting a break (or not) and the grueling audition process--which is the same plot as Every Little Step, the documentary about A Chorus Line. It feels layered because you're watching dancers try out for a play about trying out for a play that's based on real-life experiences about the Broadway scene and auditioning in general.

It's interesting to learn that the stories that are told in A Chorus Line are rooted in truth--in real persons' experiences. All of the characters are either based on someone's real story or the story is told ver batim from a real-life experience. The best part for me, though, was watching these real-life dancers in the documentary--some way into their 30s and 40s--continue to audition (a process that takes up to a year) and try to make their dream happen. You see, the odds are completely against these performers. They're all trained; they're all really good. The probability of THAT ONE dancer getting chosen above the others is near impossible. Yet, they all continue to do it; they all continue to go for it. They do it because one more audition is another possibility. Another chance. I wish I were as brave in any aspect of my life. I hear "no" and I believe it. These dancers hear "no" and they move on and work more until they procure that "yes."

But, how do these dancers go on with their self-esteem in tact after the "no's," after the disappointment? Maybe, the lesson is in the contours of both A Chorus Line and Every Little Step: the notion that one person DID make it, and he or she pushed just as much and maybe even more than you have been nudging yourself. Maybe, making yourself do something is all that matters. I mean, even if you don't get cast, you're still a dancer. And, that is beautiful. It's beautiful under a spotlight in a flashy costume in front of thousands of people, their smiles reflecting your value. It's beautiful under the gaze of your mother in front of the mirror, your underpants-clad five year old body reflecting your worth. Maybe, the trick is getting over the idea of classifying the beauty. The dancers possess their own reflected validation of beauty. That type of spotlight must be the warmest of all.