Oh, Those Dancing Feet!

At some point in the recent past, dance fever swept America. Or rather, a passion for watching D-list celebrities and hubristic fools sweep across a stage glittering with sequins, tassels and fringe swept America. Apparently, the runaway success of shows like Dancing with the Stars and So You Think You Can Dance? was enough motivation to book the endlessly touring international all ballroom dance extravaganza Burn the Floor on Broadway. What’s surprising is how successful the show actually is.

Part of the power of Burn the Floor comes from finally being able to see ballroom dancers who don’t have to concern themselves with how to make poorly coordinated household names look better than they actually are, particularly special guest stars Karina Smirnoff and Maksim Chmerkovsky. Household names themselves from their time on DWTS, it’s unclear whether or not Smirnoff and Chmerkovsky are the best dancers in the show or if they’re simply more relaxed on stage than the rest of the cast.

Both have an easygoing charm that translates well across the footlights, waggling their fingers at the audience or shooting a sexy grin out into the darkened theater. The other dancers are all so focused that they can sometimes feel as if they’re performing in a vacuum, with the exception of Giselle Peacock, who is not only shockingly talented but has a blast on stage.

Once director and choreographer Jason Gilkison moves away from his narrative-less dances in favor of storytelling (particularly Peta Murgatroyd’s heartbreaking evocation of unrequited love in the second act is a highlight of the show), Burn the Floor really starts to sizzle. The early waltzes and cha-chas are all expertly performed, but the problem with exceptional dancers is that they make even the most difficult moves look simple, which leaves the show’s early numbers feeling slightly lifeless.  

Where Burn the Floor falters is in its two hour running time—a bit long for an all dance show—and its singers. Ricky Rojas has a low-key performance style, but not so Rebecca Tapia, who looks and sounds like a Star Search contestant. Janet Hine’s costumes never seem tacky on the kinetic dancers, but the unflattering gowns with which she’s outfitted Tapia make her look like a poor high school senior who found her prom dress at a low-end thrift store. And her outlandish over-singing and inaudible low notes frequently draw attention away from the dancers.

But Burn the Floor is primarily a dance show, and it delivers the goods—meaning steamy dancing and more beefcake than is usually seen outside of the annual Broadway Bares benefit event. Frequently, the question crossing audience’s minds isn’t “How did he just do that?’ but “How is he keeping that flimsy, unbuttoned shirt on?” There’s also a healthy and totally understandable fascination among the dancers with Chmerkovsky’s butt, which features a prominent role in several numbers and draws dancers to it like a magnet when they strike their final poses. For a final summer fling, Burn the Floor’s sexy glitz is the perfect choice.

Through Oct. 18. Longacre Theatre, 220 W. 48th St. (betw. Broadway & 8th Ave.), 212-239-6200; $59.50–$111.50.