Avenue

All the Right Moves

So they may think they can dance, but do they have the X factor that producers are really looking for?

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They came from Calgary, Edmonton, Red Deer and Lethbridge. Even small-town Alberta came with contingents fit for paparazzi flashbulbs. In all, more than 300 dancers stepped onstage to be judged in Calgary this past May, all vying for coveted tickets to Toronto to be part of So You Think You Can Dance Canada.

For 26-year-old Calgarian Laura Ann Smyth, the auditions were just another way to prove herself in a city starved for arts opportunities. A contemporary jazz dancer studying with Decidedly Jazz Danceworks, Smyth was not nervous about auditioning, and is not fooled by the hoopla surrounding the Canadian edition of an already tremendously popular franchise.

“A show like this is what it is,” she said. “If people don’t like you, it is beyond your control and I am not going to waste energy being sad if I don’t make it.”

Thi Vo, a 28-year-old B-boy — breakdancer — had a hard time deciding whether to audition at all, but eventually went for it, opening himself up to the inevitable slings and arrows of judgment. “I just want to be able to dance, whether I make it through the first round or not,” he said, smiling. “The rest would just be a bonus.”

The first round started well enough for both dancers on the chilly morning of May 12. Hundreds of hopefuls lined the winding walk leading to the MacEwan Hall Ballroom at the University of Calgary — an endless array of perfectly placed leg warmers and carefully constructed deconstructed costumes. Dancers peacocked around their competition, stretching with faux nonchalance, always keeping one eye on their counterparts.

For Vo, the morning saw his auditions nearly end before they began when he was sent home even before making it through the door for neglecting to bring a second piece of ID. “They didn’t even look at it when I came back with it,” he says.

As the last dancer to officially register that morning, Vo joined Smyth and a herd of iPod-adorned dancers on the basement floor of MacEwan Hall. Tuning out the others and concentrating on their own routines, Smyth stretched and thought about the number she prepared just a week prior, while Vo warmed up and conversed with some buddies who were also making a go of the auditions.

Mostly, they waited, and waited some more — a fact Smyth and others did not appreciate. “The whole process . . . was a bit ridiculous,” she says. “We waited on the floor for more than three hours with no one giving us updates or telling us what was happening.”

If waiting for their auditions made some contestants irate, a rude awakening was also about to take place for some. While TV editing makes the process seem like there is only one audition in front of the judging panel, the auditions on that first day were only in front of show producers. Their job was weeding out potential catastrophes and pre-screening dancers for the celebrity TV panel.

Forget carefully planned choreography and polished routines — dancers appeared in front of show staff in groups of 10 and were made to freestyle to the same two pieces of music, with no more than a 30-second solo to show why they should move on.

While this process was a surprise and more than a little disconcerting to some, both Vo and Smyth made it to the next round. Drained mentally more than physically, each was excited to be invited back.

The next round, however, would not prove to be a good day for Smyth. The day’s 70 dancers were once again split into groups of 10, but this time asked to dance for the celebrity panel, which included So You Think You Can Dance judging alum Jean Marc Genereux, new judge Tré Armstrong, Calgarian Sean Cheesman and producer savant Jeff Thacker. One by one, groups came and took their 30 seconds worth of Flo Rida’s “Low” to freestyle once again. Contemporary dancers tried to remain fluid to the song begging for booty slaps, while hip-hoppers and breakers took full advantage of the music choice that favoured their styles. There were competent ballerinas, tappers and even an urban cowboy or two, and those notorious bad auditions were virtually nonexistent.

Both Vo and Smyth danced well in their groups, but only Vo was asked to perform his own choreographed solo later in the day.

“I was totally surprised to not make it through the next round,” Smyth said. “I was never convinced I would make it into the finals, but I was not expecting to get cut as soon as I did.”

Not sure what more she could have done, Smyth’s experience left her somewhat jaded to the show’s validity as a dance competition. “Even after just a couple days, I realized that this is more of a reality show than a dance show,” she said. “They weed out people that normally would be seen as great dancers but just don’t fit the mould for the show.”

Guest judge Thacker is straight forward in stating So You Think You Can Dance Canada is not just a dance show, but a personality show, and does not make apologies for jilted dancers. He says he’s looking for the ever-mystical “X Factor.”

“I don’t know what it is, but you just recognize it,” says Thacker. “Let’s face it, if we knew what it was, we’d bottle it and sell it.”

Former Calgarian and choreographer extraordinaire Cheesman breaks it down further. “You could be at a club, and someone will walk in, start dancing and the whole room stops — that’s what I’m looking for,” he says.

Meanwhile, Vo was hoping for some of that said magic during his solo, bottled or not. There were three possible outcomes for the solo round: you could be given a ticket to Toronto, you could be sacked entirely, or you could be given another chance to prove your mettle during a choreography round, where competitors would be treated to a world-class choreographer’s routine and given half an hour to learn and perform it. After some positive reinforcements from the judges, Vo was sent to choreography, a common occurrence for B-boys and dancers proficient in a very distinct style.

Greeting the dancers for their make-it-or-break-it session was former So You Think You Can Dance finalist (and tour choreographer) Blake McGrath. Wasting no time, McGrath put the dancers through a rigorous routine filled with hop-hop, jazz and contemporary moves. Dancers with previous technical training had a leg up, and it was quickly apparent which dancers were without technical experience.

Vo fell somewhere in the middle — he picked up the choreography relatively well, but not well enough for the judges. Vo was eliminated in the final round of cuts, but refuses to emote any kind of disappointment. “My goal was to get to the choreography round with Blake, so I was happy to get the opportunity,” he said.

Vo also pondered the cuts that were made, but seemed to understand the agenda behind them. “They definitely kept the right people, but sometimes the dancing came second,” he said. “Even if you are a really good dancer, but have a boring personality, they will see it and not put you through. It just doesn’t make good TV.”

That said, approximately 50 TV-worthy dancers from Calgary received “golden tickets” to Toronto to battle it out later this month with dancers from across Canada. From this group, 20 finalists will be chosen to compete on the TV show itself.

A cash prize and priceless exposure is on the line, and both Smyth and Vo say they will be watching the fracas unfold. If nothing else, they hope the show injects further life into the local (and national) dance scene.

“I am really excited to see who turns up on the show, because I really want Canada to prove to the world that we have great dancers with real talent and aren’t just runners-up to Americans,” said Smyth. “I just hope that great and deserving dancers get through rather than just the TV personalities.”

But what fun would that be? Stay tuned.

So You Think You Can Dance Canada premieres on CTV later this month.