Billy Elliot reminds us that we were all “Born to Boogie” by Erin Stoeckig

 Erin Stoeckig

Billy Elliot reminds us that we were all “Born to Boogie”

From Annie to School of Rock, Oliver! to Matilda, there is a special kind of wonder—and masochism—in seeing a musical prominently featuring child actors. The appeal (and affront for any overly self-conscious audience member) of this growing subgenre of musical theatre is in watching a person a fraction of your age dance, sing, and act their way across the stage with exponentially more skill than you could ever hope for. Billy Elliot the Musical Live, the 2014 filmed production of Elton John’s musical based on the 2000 movie of the same name, keeps with the trend, emphasizing the multitude of young talent it draws on with an additional dance number featuring most of the young men to take up the mantle of Billy during the show’s (at the time of filming) 9 years on the West End. Though the title character’s discovery of his love for ballet is the musical’s major through line, Billy Elliot speaks to the universal beauty and joy in dance. 

Set against the backdrop of the British miner’s strike of 1984, Billy’s individual journey seems at first at odds with the masculine expectations and collective cause of his community. But, with the help of Peter Darling’s choreography, which uses both bombastic tap and lyrical ballet to blend dance classes and violent protests, and the spirit of a colorful supporting cast, the show manages to extol the virtues of both “Solidarity” and “Expressing Yourself”. From Zach Atkinson’s delightfully unabashed Michael who leads a bright sequence about dressing in women’s clothing, to the weathered kindness of Ann Emery’s Grandma as she recounts memories of dancing, to David Muscat’s athletic Mr. Braithwaite, the rehearsal pianist who joins in Billy’s practice, the spirit of dance infects the entire town, uniting them behind the unexpected passion of Elliott Hanna’s electric Billy in addition to their strike. 

Ian MacNeil’s clever folding set and Rick Fisher’s versatile lighting worked together to create a convincingly grimy and shadow-filled mining town as well as equally full dream worlds for Billy’s expressive dances. Small details, like the extension of the use of chairs as dance props into the fog-filled land where Billy is able to fly and dance with his older self, serve to tie together the show’s disparate elements into an artistically cohesive whole. 

Though, between the strike, dance, class struggles, and Billy’s grief over his mother’s death, the competing plotlines can seem overbearing at times, especially for American ears, which may need a couple moments to adjust to the slang and accents. And though the musical’s smooth transition to film allows it greater emphasis on its many instances of fancy footwork, the story’s transition from movie to musical is a little more rocky, rendering Billy’s father’s anti-dance argument somewhat futile within the context of the dance-dependent musical form.

While focused on the journey of a child, the musical deals compassionately with all the adult lives his story touches, finding heart and hope in the acceptance of community. Featuring actors from 6 to 84, Billy Elliot reminds all audiences—no matter how clumsy or old (or old-feeling)—that there’s always a way to join the dance.