The 2002 revival of Nine was mostly a dog’s breakfast of a production. Antonio Banderas was the putative star, which, you know, sure, why not, have a Spaniard playing an Italian, an accent’s an accent, right? Jane Krakowski floated down from the ceiling in a cloth trapeze to make her call from the Vatican, floating back up with a Tony, but she might have been dropping in from some other production, not the one that had the cast splashing around the Grand Canal on a stage flooded with six inches of water - a because-we-can bit of stagecraft that surely left half the performers with trenchfoot.
Still: it had Chita. While Bandaras was stalking around Rex Harrisoning the high notes, Chita Rivera was defining what the word “star” means. I can’t tell you a single specific of her performance after the moment she strode in at the apex of the set. She was in her 70s by then, not dancing the way she once could of course, nor sing. All I remember is that she owned the stage from the moment she entered until she returned to the wings, making our hearts sink a little.
What’s a star? A star is the person onstage that you can’t take your eyes off, even when they’re not doing a thing. Not many have that power. We have one less among us this week.