‘Contact’ Gives Fantasy a Whirl

At the heart of the three-part 1999 dance musical “Contact” is the power of fantasy in human lives: sex fantasy, of course, but also fantasies of impossible escape and of miraculous personal salvation. In all of these otherwise unconnected stories, the vehicle for these fantasies--the way the central characters define their dreams--is by dancing. Nobody sings (though there are recorded songs galore underscoring the action) and talk belongs to the mundane and often intolerable real world. To transcend all that, you gotta dance.

Conceived for an intimate thrust stage, this Tony Award-winning collaboration between John Weidman (text) and Susan Stroman (choreography and direction) arrived Sunday in a new touring version refocused and inevitably flattened out for the proscenium-bound and anything-but-intimate Ahmanson Theatre.

The bold diagonal emphases of Thomas Lynch’s settings no longer challenge conventional theatrical symmetries, and our expectations of what a big Broadway musical looks like may now lead us to find the opening section--based on an antique painting by Jean-Honore Fragonard--curiously drab.

Fragonard set “The Swing” in a lush forest glade, but Weidman, Stroman and Lynch place “Swinging” in a curtained room, so what takes place may be a Fragonard party: a courtship game by and for a threesome who adopt the look of their canvas counterparts but behave far less innocently.

Certainly the aristocratic manners of Mindy Franzese Wild and Andrew Asnes seem deliberately overdone, as if they’re off-duty servants parodying their masters. Moreover, Keith Kuhl may let them order him around, but he looks much too toned and exudes too much surly authority to stay menial for long.

Every section of “Contact” has a twist ending, and if the one in “Swinging” raises an ironic smirk, the one in “Did You Move?” could break your heart. Here, in an Italian restaurant, a brutal husband leads his stifled wife to imagine dances of release, of affirmation, even of triumphant murder.

Stroman’s ability to pull choreographic energy from props--napkins, menus, a dessert tray, even the rolls that raise the husband’s fury--finds a brilliant outlet here. Best of all, Meg Howrey not only blossoms into the dances as Karen Ziemba never quite did in the original cast but also suffers every oppressive impulse inflicted by Adam Dannheisser with deep conviction. There’s a woman here capable of loving even this terrible man, and Howrey keeps her on view whether she’s stroking his face with a rose or careening through “I Love Lucy” antics.

“Did You Move?” represents the most text-driven section of “Contact” and the one that seems the slowest in this touring edition, despite Howrey’s heroic performance. In contrast, the final section--the one that gives the musical its name and promotional imagery--has pictorial variety and spectacular swing-dancing to energize it. Its story, however, is bleak: an ad exec fumbling through suicide attempts to a world at once threatening and (song cue) simply irresistible.

Alan Campbell may overplay the adman’s nerdy incompetence, but his pursuit of the ever-elusive Girl in the Yellow Dress goes as deep as any ballet prince’s search for his swan queen. And that’s because the fabulously statuesque Holly Cruikshank manages to make her character not merely the ultimate male trophy or even soul mate (though she can be both, often simultaneously) but the ultimate embodiment of the power of dance.

Led by the dauntingly skillful and scary Mike Jackson, a stage full of swing virtuosi throws itself at Cruikshank’s feet, but she keeps waiting for Campbell to take the first step. And when he totters forth and wins her without turning into Fred Astaire, we’re very, very close to the belief that inspired “Contact,” a belief in dance as a liberating force.

Even the same kind of twist ending that Agnes de Mille devised for “One Touch of Venus” leaves that belief intact. Choreography is destiny: Dance with someone and you belong together. Whatever its built-in flaws, and those added by this new proscenium adaptation, “Contact” ultimately succeeds not merely as entertainment but as a heartfelt act of faith.

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* “Contact,” Ahmanson Theatre, Music Center of Los Angeles County, 135 N. Grand Ave., downtown. Tuesdays-Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 2 and 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Also: Sunday, July 22 and 29 and Aug. 26, 7:30 p.m.; Aug. 27 at 8 p.m.; Aug. 2, 9, 16 and 30, 2 p.m. Ends Sept. 1. $25-$75. (213) 628-2772. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

Keith Kuhl: Servant

Mindy Franzese Wild: Girl on a Swing

Andrew Asnes: An Aristocrat

Meg Howrey: Wife

Adam Dannheisser: Husband

Gary Franco: Headwaiter

Alan Campbell: Michael Wiley

Holly Cruikshank: Girl in the Yellow Dress

Conceived by Susan Stroman and John Weidman. Written by John Weidman. Directed and choreographed by Susan Stroman. Scenic design by Thomas Lynch. Costumes by William Ivey Long. Lighting by Peter Kaczorowski. Sound by Scott Stauffer. Production stage manager Eric Sprosty.