Tango Argentino is the show that started a real craze when it hit Broadway 14 years ago. This group of dancers and musicians don't aspire to the splashes of glitz and glamour that marked the Forever Tango troupe two years ago. This company was the first to mainstream the tango internationally, and it still appears rooted in integrity, if somewhat lacking in theatrical imagination. It remains a show designed more for purists than for tourists. The format for this presentation is simple: sensuous movement and evocative music. Thirteen musicians (heavy on the bandoneon, a sort of slinky accordion) sit on a tiered platform at the rear of the stage playing the pulsating rhythms and melodies as four singers and the smartly-dressed (mostly in black) dancers relentlessly weave the spell of the tango. Soloists, couples and ensembles fiercely, gently and, at times, even humorously take their turns evoking all the passions and temperaments within this 100 year-old dance.
It doesn't take long to notice, however, the lack of spring chickens on the stage. Even the musicians, quite brilliant and entertaining on their own, give the appearance of having performed the tango for half a century or more. The male dancers, without exception look like variations of gangster-typed film stars George Raft and Jean Gabin -- late in their careers. This is not to imply that age is a deterrent. The opposite appears true. Senior members Juan Carlos Copes and Maria Nieves, who wowed audiences fifteen years ago, are back, a little less tempestuous but no less heroic in a fluidly executed "Patetico." The old standard, "La Cumparsita," as danced by Pablo Veron and Guillermina Quiroga, brings a vision of lovers finding romance under a star-filled sky (the only concession to an atmospheric). Hector and Elsa Mayoral in "Milonguero Viego" demonstrate a contrast of male reserve and feminine impetuousness. The stern maturity of Carlos Copello is an insinuating match for the breezy playfulness of his partner, Alicia Monti, in "Recuerdo." And a curiously muttering Carlos Inez appears to be playing mentor to his slavishly responsive partner Borquez in "La Yumba." I suppose you can develop a taste for the kind of angst-driven songs sung by prominent Argentine vocalists Raul Lavie, Maria Grana, Jovita Luna, and Alba Solis, all of whom gave the impression they had been double-crossed or wronged one too many times by lovers in their lifetime.
I did get the impression that perhaps the orchestra, which plays solo between the songs and dances, are playing the familiar compositions rather perfunctorily.
