Dancers with Oscar dreams audition for big show
| the first cut to return to the room, where two of his assistants begin teaching a brief dance routine filled with leaps, twists and spins.
Shankman, lithe and fit in black track pants, black socks and a white warm-up jacket, steps out from behind the table to show the aspiring performers just what he's looking for. "If your arms are here, I'll freak out," he says, his arms hanging limp near his chest. "And you don't want that." They run through the routine a few times, first with counts, then with music. "It's playful and whimsical, and I'm seeing hard, angry jazz," he coaches. "Feel the music. Let it lift you." Shankman divides the dancers into groups of five. Each performs the routine twice. As Nos. 37, 26 and 149 wait their turn, they pantomime the moves to the music. No. 37 is called to perform. She leaps effortlessly, light as air, her black bodysuit taut against every muscle. "Numbers 37, 66 and 122, come up and get a green wristband," says associate choreographer Jamal Sims. The green wristband means they're still in the running and will have another opportunity to perform for Shankman and his team. No. 26, who has the lean, muscular body of an Olympic swimmer, is up. Her group performs, and Shankman says, "No. 26, could you smile please?" They perform again, and No. 26 is rewarded with a green wristband. It's No. 149's turn. As a friend holds her little boy, she performs, her muscular legs seemingly weightless. She dances twice with the group, but afterward, her number is not called. For No. 149, the audition is over. She collects her things in the baby stroller and steps into the hallway, where she changes her son's diaper on a metal folding chair. "Oh well," the now-former No. 149 says with a sigh. But she could return for another dance audition the following day, when Shankman will be testing for a hip-hop routine. She says she might. |