BILLY ELLIOT THE MUSICAL music by Elton John, book and lyrics by Lee Hall, directed by Stephen Daldry, with Cesar Corrales, Myles Erlick, Marcus Pei, J.P. Viernes, Kate Hennig, Armand Schultz and Cynthia Darlow. Presented by Universal Pictures Stage Productions, Working Title Films and Old Vic Productions at the Canon (244 Victoria). Limited run, Tuesday-Saturday 7:30 pm, matinees Wednesday, Saturday-Sunday 1:30 pm. $36-$130. 416-872-1212. See Listing. Rating: NNNNN
Based on its opening night reaction, Billy Elliot The Musical is here to stay for a good long time. In decades of theatregoing, I’ve never seen so many standing ovations, including one that literally stopped the show midway through the second act. But guess what? They were all deserved. This is one of the best new musicals of the millennium.
It’s based on Stephen Daldrey’s 2000 film about a working class boy whose dreams of becoming a ballet dancer are set against the grim reality of his northern England mining community. The setting is 1984, and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s threats to close the state-owned mines have forced the workers to strike.
Amidst all this, 11-year-old Billy (Cesar Corrales, who shares the role with Myles Erlick, Marcus Pei and J.P. Viernes), who’s just lost his mom (Anne Tolpegin), accidentally stumbles into a ballet class run by the tough-as-nails Mrs. Wilkinson (Kate Hennig). He’s resistant at first, but curious, and soon shows real talent – enough to possibly audition for the Royal Ballet School. Still, he’s not stupid, keeping his classes a secret from his father (Armand Schultz), brother (Patrick Mulvey) and grandmother (Cynthia Darlow).
The film’s director (Daldrey) and screenwriter (Lee Hall) have stayed on for the adaptation, and it shows. The characters are richly detailed, the conflicts believable and complex. Hall’s dialogue is raw, crude and never sentimental, delivered in authentic accents that make every word sound defensive and belligerent. The miners’ ongoing strike, their battle against scabs and riot police, isn’t just a backdrop. It’s woven brilliantly into the narrative. Except for a feel-good curtain call, there’s no pandering to an audience weaned on sunny Disney cartoon musicals.
As for Elton John’s music, there might not be a single hummable tune in the show, but the songs always serve story and character, and that feels more fitting than stand-alone numbers. There’s some powerful choral work for the miners and a simple, touching song in which Billy reads a letter from his Mum. As well, John and lyricist Hall cleverly integrate the theme of personal expression and freedom into several numbers, including a brilliant setpiece about crossdressing that needs to be seen to be believed.
Considering the subject matter, the show’s choreography needs to work magic, and Peter Darling doesn’t disappoint, offering up movement that often says what its characters can’t.
In addition to the ballet, there’s plenty of tap dancing, used as much for its sonic effects (you can’t really “hear” ballet) as its across-the-board appeal. Even when the choreography doesn’t completely work – as when Darling has the strikers partnering the little girls in the ballet class – it’s thoughtful and interesting to watch. The act-one closer, when Billy angrily tries to break through the walls that are in his way, he comes up against a police squad in a scene that bristles with danger.
The artistic team obviously realizes that a musical’s song and dance can capture the imagination. Many numbers conjure up a fantasy or revisit the past in a way that would seem hokey on film. One standout number finds Billy partnering with his imaginary future self (Samuel Pergande) to Swan Lake: it’s a scene that works on so many levels it’s dizzying.
The show’s cast is a dream. Schultz and Mulvey are sympathetic as men who are gradually losing their dignity and sense of self, while Darlow – present more in the first act – shows great comic timing as Billy’s forgetful grandmother. Dillon Stevens (who alternates with Jack Broderick) nearly steals the show as Billy’s friend, the proudly effeminate Michael. And Hennig grounds the work with her uncompromising turn as the realistic dance teacher.
But ultimately the show hangs on the success of its Billy, who’s in almost every scene and has to dance, act, sing and show a range of emotion that would defeat an actor three times his age.
I can’t talk about the other three Billys, but little Cesar Corrales is a wonder. Not only can the kid dance with a grace, power and concentration that will make your jaw drop, but he captures Billy’s scrappy, guarded nature, showing a believable and heartbreaking mix of hope and insecurity.
Although it’s ultimately about the power of art and the imagination to transcend daily life, Billy Elliot The Musical never tugs on your sleeve asking you to love it. But you will anyway.
