The Devil's in the Jukebox

Perhaps the strangest moment in "Hot Feet" - and choosing just one moment isn't easy - arrives when the curtain drops on Act I and the house lights come up.

Usually, the presence of an intermission is completely normal. But coming in the middle of more than two hours of largely plotless, mindless, and enormously revved-up dance routines set to the tunes of the 1970s funk-soul-pop-jazz collective Earth Wind & Fire, the 15-minute respite creates a jarring hall-of-mirrors sensation: "Hot Feet" is in essence the first halftime show to have its own halftime.

This misbegotten brainchild of journeyman choreographer Maurice Hines is the latest and possibly weirdest jukebox musical yet to reach Broadway. Conceived as a sort of Alvin Ailey-meets-"The Red Shoes" hybrid, it shows a far more earthbound set of influences, including Janet Jackson's "Rhythm Nation" video and any number of rhythmic gymnastics routines, albeit without the ribbons. But the most predominant is "Satan's Alley."Yes, the unforgettably garish, fog machine-happy Broadway musical featured in the "Saturday Night Fever" sequel "Stayin' Alive" has finally made it to Broadway, at least in spirit.

At the same time the Bee Gees were churning out disco tunes with the mildest touch of funk, including that unfortunate film's title song, Earth Wind & Fire had a torrid run of hard-to-classify hits like "September," "Serpentine Fire," and "Shining Star." (If you don't recognize those by name but were anywhere near a radio between 1975 and 1979, you'll know them when you hear them.) Created by Maurice White and anchored by the crystalline falsetto of Philip Bailey, the group became known for its elaborate concerts and sprawling assemblage of musicians. (The "Hot Feet" program lists no fewer than 25 composers and lyricists in addition to Mr. White.)

Cramming this song catalog into a workable plot has fallen to Mr. Hines and a young poetry-slam veteran named Heru Ptah.They have responded with a tale of Faustian deals and romantic intrigues within the Serpentine Fire dance company,a world in which a goateed devil tells "Deal or No Deal" jokes, the choreographers are straight, and the dancers wear Day-Glo vests and parachute pants, like crossing guards from the School District of Funk.

I believe this is also the first jukebox musical in which a character discusses the act being jukeboxed: "Lord knows I loves me some Philip Bailey!" trumpets the lead character's stern but loving mother (Anne Duquesnay), identified in the Playbill as Mom.

Most of "Hot Feet" follows the template of Twyla Tharp's Billy Joel homage "Movin' Out," with a dance troupe performing to a series of songs being sung independently. (But whereas "Movin' Out" featured singer Michael Cavanaugh prominently on top of the stage, the three talented "Hot Feet" vocalists - Brent Carter, Keith Anthony Fluitt, and Theresa Thomason - are relegated to the pit.) Huge swaths of material are performed this way, with dialogue accounting for maybe 25 minutes of the entire show.

But then the show lurches midway through into a sequence where Mom and Victor Serpentine (Keith David), the Mephistophelian dance impresario, sing to each other as they fight over the fate of Mom's daughter, a naive young dancer named Kalimba (Vivian Nixon). The story takes this more predictable path on one or two other occasions, and then the vocal responsibilities shift back to the folks in the pit. Did it not occur to anyone that these shifts might be a bit jolting?

Victor is only the second most malevolent character onstage. He sold his soul years ago to the devil, Louie (Allen Hidalgo), who shows up as a nebbishy assistant choreographer and - in a particularly pointless framing device - a homeless man trying to lure a little girl into buying a pair of red sequined shoes.

Those who know "The Red Shoes" from the Hans Christian Anderson tale or, more to the point, from the legendary 1948 ballet film, will remember that the red shoes doom their wearer to dance until she dies. This concept has been shoehorned into an absurd subplot about backstage rivalries, long-lost fathers, and Louie's scheme to get Kalimba into those shoes. This registers as an absurd subplot even by the generous standards of dance musicals.

A disproportionate amount of both the auditions and the rehearsals appears to have been spent on dancing, as the outrageously attractive cast looks lost every time the music stops and any sort of acting is required. Unfortunately, this includes Ms. Nixon, who dances phenomenally, sings passably, and ... dances phenomenally. Mr. Hines was wise to cast a few grownups - such as the silkily sinister Mr. David and the earnest Ms. Duquesnay, who do what they can to turn this show into something recognizable or even watchable.

As for the dances themselves, Mr. Hines fares best during the high-energy offstage sequences, which are chockablock with capoeira moves, "step show" sequences, acrobatics, and even a bit of krumping. But the Serpentine Fire performance numbers are derivative and dreary, and the only flashes of creativity come from Paul Tazewell's ludicrous costumes.

And yet the cast plugs away at these uninvolving and sometimes embarrassing dances, doing everything they can to keep the audience diverted from the absurd plot flaws. It's almost as if the entire company is wearing red shoes, forced to dance with frightening virtuosity until they have to be carried off the stage.

Watching the company's strenuous efforts, I found myself frequently wishing for another book scene, just to give these admirable young men and women a breather. But then another book scene finally arrived. And the central lesson of "Hot Feet" registered loud and clear: When dealing with the devil, be very, very careful what you wish for.

Open run (213 W. 42nd Street, between Broadway and Eighth Avenue, 212-307-4100).