During my junior high years I remember lying on the rug in front of the family stereo listening intently to folk music and a number of Broadway cast albums—Fiddler on the Roof, West Side Story, The Music Man, Sound of Music, My Fair Lady, Camelot, etc. Back then I dreamed of one day seeing a live musical play—on Broadway, so it was with great anticipation that I finally fulfilled that dream in the summer of 1988 when I scored tickets to The Shubert Theater for A Chorus Line. In the second row, no less!!

Mesmerized, I'd never seen such dancing or such professional acting on stage. Certainly mind-blowing compared to the many high school and community theater productions I'd seen over the years and even a notch up on various professional touring productions. Live Broadway WAS special. And when Paul began his play-stopping monologue with tears streaming down his face that I could plainly see from my close right stage vantage point, I was emotionally overcome and won-over. I'll absolutely never forget that moment and how it caused me to sob and mop my face as well.

So naturally I looked forward to checking out Richard Attenborough's movie version of A Chorus Line when I got home, only to be disappointed. It just didn't pack the same power of the Broadway stage production, so for many years I've felt that the musical would always remain better as a stage play.

Now I must qualify that opinion after experiencing the 2008 documentary Every Little Step. Directors Adam Del Deo and James D. Stern create a compelling real life drama by time warping scenes from creator Michael Bennett's reel to reel tape conception to actual auditions that focus on 17 dancers all needing a job in the recent revival of A Chorus Line. Like the mirrors in the production, the scenes replicate the original premise with similar intensity, as we are taken behind the scenes into the back stories of a select few surviving finalists—who have outlasted others from the original 3,000 professional dancers who answered the open casting call.

All extremely talented, many of these dancers have dedicated their entire lives for the slim chance of landing a job on Broadway. Starting as children, they have practiced and rehearsed for years as hard as any professional athlete, and this is their chance for fulfilling their dreams—their story really does parallel the one in A Chorus Line.

Along the way, we are thrust into their point of view, and are certain to develop a fondness for many of them as Bob Avian, Michael Bennett's fellow choreographer in the 1975 production, and his assistants (including vivacious Baayork Lee who "was" the original Connie) whittle the candidates down to the finalists. Most of the roles come down to two—the exception being Jason Tam, whose audition for Paul leaves the panel blubbering and unable to even speak (and I found myself in the same condition once again).

I've not seen another film that delivers such a potent point of view from an actor's perspective. The audition process comes across as brutal, both physically and emotionally—a real blow to fragile egos that are either going to give up the dream or go back to menial jobs and try to land the next acting/dancing gig in New York City. One dancer who looks like a virtual shoo-in for Sheila can't remember what she did 8 months previously that so impressed Avian while another supreme dancing talent allows his large ego threaten his landing the part of a dancer who actually is supposed to have a pretty large ego. Thus, throughout the film we are drawn into the same questions that plague each of these hopefuls—and in the end feel empathy for both the winners and losers.

But finally, A Chorus Line gets its due in film. It's just not possible to capture as effectively in a scripted screenplay. It receives its potency as a real life drama, and that is exactly what Every Little Step achieves.