ãElvis has left the building.ä

By Ricardo Baca
The Metropolitan

In Blue Suede Shoesâ case, he never entered the building to begin with ÷he didnât have to.

This musical ballet tribute to the King, now playing at the Buell Theatre through April 19, by the Cleveland San Jose Ballet, works in many ways, but its ultimate success can be attributed to the haunting voice and looming presence of one Elvis Presley.

Although he never appears on-stage throughout the performance, his proximity is felt as the tightly knit cast authentically brings back Americaâs age of innocence, the â50s, in a not-so-innocent way.

Set to the background of digitally re-mastered Elvis tunes, the story mirrors Presleyâs life as it takes three close friends from high school graduation to the Army, over to Germany and back again. When they get back they find that friends have changed and parents have died, and in their desolation, they all end up in jail. And of course it couldnât be remotely related to Elvis if it lacked the boogie-woogie, Hollywood ending where everything is dandy ÷ a usual ending for an unusual show.

It is unusual because ÷ letâs not forget ÷ itâs a ballet. Imagine a typical ballerina leaping and twirling to ãJailhouse Rock.ä

The sexually provocative, and at times perverse, choreography was a melting pot of all types of dance, abusing different techniques according to the mood. Pure classicality shines through during some of the emotional ballads such as ãLove Me Tender,ä where all-American modern jive prevails during the up-beat numbers like
ãHound Dog.ä

Nonetheless, it worked. Even the sloppiness in the dancing didnât hinder the overall performance, rather it added to the youthful, joyful environment created on the stage.

All this rock-n-roll would be quite peculiar in tights, tu-tus and pink toe-shoes, would it not?
Fortunate for the audience, some marketing prodigy acquired costuming genius Bob Mackie to design not only the costumes, but the set also.

And as that curtain opens to present a crazily psychedelic, black-lit neon Hot Dog Drive-In, itâs quickly noticed that Mackie is the showâs only fresh element that evokes a ãwowä or a ãohä here or there from audience members.

His costumes are no let down, either. Whether it was the neighborhood mackinâ pimp decked out in a Nathan Detroit-style zoot suit or the dominatrix jailer donning thigh-high black vinyl boots and a domineering, vinyl g-string teddy, they are entertaining and loud÷ perfect for the showâs attitude.

A major disappointment was the overhanging ego of the troupe/director. With a Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat-type curtain call ÷ the kind that takes 30 minutes ÷it leaves the audience with a bad taste in their mouth.

Cirque Du Soleilâs Quidam deserves three or four standing ovations; this clearly doesnât but milks the clap-happy audience for all its worth anyhow.