Baz Luhrmann linked the word ‘strictly’ to dancing over a decade before the BBC show Strictly Come Dancing was first produced. It is, however, likely that most people in the audience for Strictly Ballroom: The Musical are drawn by the presence or involvement of stars / judges from the BBC show rather than because they are fans of the 1992 Australian romantic comedy.
Baz Luhrmann and Craig Pearce’s script describes ballroom dancing as a dog-eat-dog culture of betrayal and dirty tricks. It is also strikingly conservative, so the innovative routines danced by Scott Hastings (Kevin Clifton) do not meet with approval. Scott’s arrogance alienates his dance partner to the extent he ends up solo. Fran (Faye Brookes) whom the other dancers look down on as a mere beginner, offers to partner Scott in his daring routines and their partnership promises to lead to something deeper. However, Barry Fife (Kieran Cooper), head of the Australian Dancing Federation, despises anything which is not Strictly Ballroom and conspires to end their budding romance and partnership.
The script takes a tongue-in-cheek approach to the subject. The authors struggle to take seriously a dance style so formal but with such over-the-top camp costumes dripping with sequins. The prize for which the dancers desperately complete—the Pan-Pacific Grand Prix—is spoken of with such reverence, it sounds mildly ridiculous. However, director Craig Revel Horwood (who co-choreographs with Jason Gilkison) pushes the irreverent approach to the extent the show starts to feel silly rather than sinister.
All of the secondary characters are portrayed as grotesques. There is a running visual gag that the ghastly wigs used by dancers during their routines are adopted also when not on the dance floor. The style of acting is exaggerated and the characters two-dimensional. Some of the scenes—in particular Barry Fife surrounded by male dancers in their underwear—are downright odd. If no one on stage is taking the plot seriously, it is hard for the audience to do so.
The choreography, however, is taken very seriously. A meandering first act has a thunderous conclusion with Jose Agudo, bringing some much-needed gravity to the show, leading the cast in a fantastic paso doble. By contrast, but just as stirring, the closing number by Kevin Clifton and Faye Brookes is at one point danced starkly without music, just the stomping feet and clapping hands of the cast setting a tempo.
Kevin Clifton faces a number of challenges in the role of Scott Hastings. He looks more like the father of a teenager than an actual teen and is unable to find shirts which button up. He has a fine singing voice but sings like a dancer—expressing the lyrics physically with wide arm movements. In a show where the comedy borders on over-acting the understated approach of Faye Brookes is a welcome relief. Brookes has a natural flair for comedy, taking the script but not herself seriously and giving a fine impersonation of a duckling turning into a swan. Together, the pair make an excellent mismatched couple with the obsessive dancer Scott blind to Fran’s romantic overtures.
Mark Walters’s costume designs look both eye-poppingly garish and a bit cheap, which is perfect for the setting. The set, a series of curved wooden circles from which props emerge, is inventive but may be to blame for a technical hitch after the first scene resulting in a lengthy delay.
Ironically, considering Strictly Ballroom: The Musical demonstrates the need to allow for individuality and irreverence in organised dancing, the show might have had greater impact if a more serious, restrained approach had been taken.