This article first appeared in THE WEEKENDER

16th August 2008

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Back in the 1990s, when the world was young and the cast of Friends still had big hair, there was an episode of the hit sitcom in which Chandler explained that Michael Flatley “scares the bejesus out of him” because Flatley’s legs “flail about as if independent from his body!”

Admittedly, Friends is not the ultimate barometer of popular culture, but the allusion does indicate the impact that Flatley’s Lord of the Dance had when it first appeared on the international scene. Having debuted in Dublin in 1996, the show was a hit in the USA and rapidly became Irish dancing’s global flagship – superseding the Riverdance company that Flatley had helped to form but left after ‘creative disagreements’ with his co-creators.

The nature of those disagreements is perhaps a useful clue to the success of Lord of the Dance. John McColgan, current director of Riverdance, has suggested that Flatley wanted the show to be “more of a vehicle for himself” because “he didn’t think it could survive without star power”. Well, Riverdance has survived and is still going strong, but Flatley’s (admittedly egotistical) intuition has been vindicated. Audiences love a hero.

The very basic storyline of Lord of the Dance pits good against evil in a Hollywood-style mythical narrative: in an ancient, timeless Ireland, the wicked (and curiously named) Don Dorcha and his troupe of nasty warriors hold sway, until the eponymous hero steps forward to dance the powers of darkness into submission. This is a story perfectly suited to the charming macho posturing for which Flatley has become known. It unfolds, moreover, within a pseudo-Celtic idiom that everyone outside of Ireland laps up: a world of clans and spirits and sorcerers, of fiddlers and fire and characters with names like Morrighan and Saoirse.

It’s also sexy, brash and shamelessly over-the-top: the lighting rig is huge, there are fireworks and explosions, the costumes (which at times border on the garish) change with every scene and the traditional Irish music is overlaid with electric guitar and synthesised effects.

Perhaps it’s little wonder that Irish dancing purists are upset – even Riverdance came in for criticism, and that is deemed closer to traditional Irish folk dancing than Lord of the Dance. Yet Flatley and his former colleagues have achieved what purism never could: they have made what was once perceived as a slightly curious (dare one say comical?) dance form, in which everything from the waist up stays rigidly still while only the legs move, into an internationally popular phenomenon.

South Africans were swept up in that wave in 1998, 2000 and again in 2004, although the latter tour ended on a terrible note as the run was curtailed when a crew member was mugged and killed outside a Johannesburg hotel. After circling the globe a few more times, however, the second of the show’s two touring troupes – the other one is permanently based in America – has returned to SA.

I made a backstage visit to meet with Adam McSharry, who has been with the company for 10 years and who is dancing the role of the Dark Lord in the current production. He may be a veteran of the itinerant lifestyle that comes with being part of a travelling show, but McSharry admits that he still finds it disorienting. “I don’t even know what days it is; is it Wednesday?” he asks (it’s a Thursday).

The international spread of Irish dancing is reflected not only in the number of countries – sixty and counting – where the show has been performed, but in the cosmopolitan make-up of the cast. I note a remarkable mixture of accents in the wings and the changing rooms, and ask McSharry if he and his fellow-dancers think of themselves as ambassadors for Irish dancing. “Only up to a point. We’ve taken the traditional style and have developed it into something a bit different. Among the leads, everyone gives it their personal touch,” he says, admitting that his characterisation of the villain has a hint of Johnny Deppe’s Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean, but is more roguish than the cavalier pirate; McSharry’s colleagues tell me that he loves it if he can get the audience to boo him.

He and Don McCarron, who is playing the title role in the current production, joined the company at the same time and are close friends, despite the mock-antagonism and bravado. They are, he observes, like boxers – in their duelling, they respond to one another’s moves and energy. “But we have to keep most of the footwork the same,” he points out, because the dancers’ tapping toes and heels provide percussion for the music.

The synchronised tap is, he agrees, the core of the show. “Sometimes, when we recruit people, we have to ‘break them down’ so that they can dance in unison with everyone else. People come from different dance schools with particular styles, but in the show we all have to keep exactly the same time. It’s a high-paced, rapid, strong tap style. I’ve seen tap dancing, and I admire those guys, but I’d love to see a tap artist battle it out against an Irish dancing artist to see who is faster!”

For most of those who see Lord of the Dance, it’s the speed of the dancers’ footwork that makes the greatest impression. Yet there are other elements of Irish dancing that are equally impressive, from the dancers’ impossible genuflections (contrary to all anatomical principles, their knees actually bend sideways) to lighter-than-air shuffle steps that make them appear to hover just above the stage floor. And they are, McSharry reminds me, all masters of their art. “Most of us are solely trained in traditional Irish dancing; you’re looking at the cream of the crop. We hire after major competitions. Every dancer who joins is one of the best, if not a world champion.”

Nevertheless, the primary cultural tradition out of which the show was born is that of Broadway. “Michael Flatley wanted to create something with a bit of pizzazz, rock’n’roll; he wanted to give it his own touch. I guess it’s like Irish dancing meets West Side Story.” Is there a sense of frustration, then, for some of the world’s best Irish dancers, who are always-already in Flatley’s shadow once they join Lord of the Dance? McSharry doesn’t think that there’s any harm in the success of the brand: “I think it’s good that people know what they’re going to get when they see the show. He’s been good to us, created so many jobs, given me a living for ten years! He’s one of the greatest, if not the greatest ever, so to dance with him, or under his name, is a privilege.”

Flatley is, of course, an Irish-American (born in Chicago to immigrant parents) and there’s something vaguely ‘American’ about Lord of the Dance – it’s big, it’s bold, it’s even slightly kitsch. But it also doesn’t take its own drama too seriously. The leads frequently break the fourth wall to get the crowd revved up and, in each show’s finale, the cast dispenses with the plot entirely and focuses on the serious fun of jaw-dropping, vision-blurring footwork. So perhaps the ‘American’ trappings are superfluous; but perhaps, in the same way that the people of Boston keep alive certain St Patrick’s day celebrations that are on the wane in Ireland, there’s value in American reinvigoration of Irish traditions.

* Lord of the Dance is at Montecasino’s Teatro until 31st August, and Cape Town’s Grand West Arena from 3rd-5th September.