Dance, dance, wherever you may be.

I remember the watching Lord of the Dance on tv lots of times and revelling in the cheesy, over-the-top clackety-clack dancing. Who can resist the arrogant and flamboyant dancing sensation that is Micheal Flatley? Tonight I went to see Lord of the Dance at the Aitken Centre, hoping to see a passable reproduction of dancing phenomenon that I remembered from years ago.

The evening got off to a shaky start. We were seated in the 10th row of the floor section, close enough to see plastered-on smiles and poorly executed arm movements. Sadly, the stage wasn't quite high enough, so we could only see the dancers from the waist up, so they looked like Celtic Barbie's and Ken's bobbing atop a sea of audience heads. Add to that a large fuzzy head of hair directly in front of me, and I was not a happy camper.

That's when I put my FOH skills to work. As soon as the lights went up at intermission, I scouted for empty seats. Then I persuaded my friend that where we really wanted to sit was at the back of the rink, where there wouldn't be any heads in our way. After consulting with our usher, we settled into much better seats. Sure, we couldn't see facial expressions, but really, it's all about the feet.

It's amazing how seeing dancer's feet can improve my opinion. Sure, it's still a cheesy show, and more than once I found myself snickering as Pixie!Girl, Princess!Girl, Skanky!Girl, Evil!Guy, Not!Micheal Flatley and company pranced around and made ridiculous arm gestures. But just as I was scoffing at the notion of fighting and banishing someone through dance steps, all of a sudden the stage would fill with dancers tapping and clacking in harmony, and I was mesmerized. At the end of the show, I was genuinely compelled to rise to my feet.

So now, I've dusted off my Lord of the Dance cd, and I'm wondering where I can get my hands on a copy of the show on VHS or DVD. Must see again.