BROADWAY (By Ben Brantley, NYTimes) December 12, 2005 — When Chita Rivera invites you to come on, babe, and help her paint the town, no one with a pulse is going to feel like refusing. Ms. Rivera was the first Velma Kelly, the homicidal hedonist from the Kander-Ebb musical "Chicago" in its first Broadway incarnation in 1975. And when she delivers that show's exultantly jaded theme song, "All That Jazz," at the end of her autobiographical show, "Chita Rivera: The Dancer's Life," Ms. Rivera makes it quite clear, thank you, that she still owns the part.

Oh, sure, other actresses have done very well by nasty old Velma since Ms. Rivera first embodied her. Bebe Neuwirth won a Tony for the 1996 revival and Catherine Zeta-Jones, an Oscar for the 2002 film version. But all Ms. Rivera has to do is cock a hip, arch an eyebrow and unleash her sinewy alto to prove that her "All That Jazz" is the "All That Jazz." As she finishes the song, she might as well be blowing the smoke off a hot pistol, while imaginary would-be Velmas lie dead at her feet.

If nothing else in this singing scrapbook, which opened last night at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater, produces the same ecstatic shivers, the fault does not lie with the enduringly seductive Ms. Rivera. At 72, she still has the voice, the attitude and - oh yes - the legs to magnetize all eyes in an audience. Directed and choreographed by Graciela Daniele, with a book by Terrence McNally, this evening of song, dance and reminiscence features a backup ensemble of 10 eager young performers (including Liana Ortiz, who plays Ms. Rivera as a child).

But these supporting players feel like smudges on a camera lens, obscuring the view of what you really want to see. So, much of the time, do Loy Arcenas's Vegas-revue-style scenery, Mr. McNally's standard-issue sentimental script and the tapioca-bland original songs by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty.

Intended as a setting for a glittering ruby of a star, the production elements often dim rather than enhance Ms. Rivera's natural incandescence. Never entirely, though. Which means that "The Dancer's Life" remains a must-have ticket for aficionados of the American musical. This is Chita Rivera, after all, the woman who in more than half a century onstage has created roles ranging from Anita in "West Side Story" to the title character of "Kiss of the Spider Woman." When she beckons, Broadway cultists heed the call.

They should not, however, expect confessional stand-up of the stripe delivered so memorably by Elaine Stritch in her one-woman show of three years ago. Ms. Rivera is not an emotional striptease artist. While she has always given her all professionally, she has never been one for baring her vulnerable soul, à la, say, Liza Minnelli, her sometime co-star.

Ms. Rivera's charisma lies instead in her expert technique and in the infectious pleasure she derives from it. She is a pro's pro in a world of exacting judgments and mythic standards. It feels right that "The Dancer's Life" should present her as the ultimate gypsy made good, the talented trouper who got the right breaks.

But in turning Ms. Rivera's career into a sort of showbiz every-story, you often lose sight of the individuality that propelled her into the spotlight. The biographical songs - which stretch from her childhood in Washington, D.C., in the 1930's and 40's to her receiving a Kennedy Center Honor in the same city in 2002 - could really be performed by any singer-actress of a certain age, except for the Latino flavoring added in reference to Ms. Rivera's Puerto Rican roots.

In a hazy tango sequence about the men in her life, Ms. Rivera does exhale a knowing sexiness that brings to mind the worldly older women of Colette's novels. But the show is most gratifying when it sticks to the highlights of its star's career. How exciting, after all, to hear her re-create her audition for "West Side Story," singing "A Boy Like That" in a voice that sounds remarkably like that of the original cast recording.

Still, even that number is delivered only as a fragment, a dot on the graph of Ms. Rivera's ascent. She does beautifully by songs from the Kander-Ebb shows "The Rink" and "Spider Woman," but their impact is diluted by a framing custom-made narrative about her relationship with her roles.

The effect is often of flipping briskly through a book of press clippings and photographs, when what you really want is to be allowed to focus on one page at a time. And do we need to see other dancers arduously trying to replicate choregraphic techniques that Ms. Rivera can convey with a strategic angling of her body or a sweep of her hand?

That eloquent body language is at its most expressive in a sequence devoted to the choreographers Ms. Rivera says have defined her: Jack Cole, Jerome Robbins, Peter Gennaro and Bob Fosse, among others. While the backup dancers perform a soft-focus version of what she's describing, Ms. Rivera sustains a blissful, jazzy riff in speech and movement on her choreographic mentors. It's a privilege, as if Jasper Johns were taking you on a personal tour of the Museum of Modern Art.

Let it be said that even when Ms. Rivera reprises numbers she first performed some 50 years ago, like a leering piece sung by French prostitutes from "Seventh Heaven," you don't wince at the ravages of time. Ms. Rivera's tart, angular appeal was never about being young and wide-eyed. On the other hand, as she has gotten older, she still pulses with the ambition and ardor of an eternal Broadway baby - of the same starlight-addicted girl who, as she says, "would have crawled through broken glass" to get a featured role.

Ms. Rivera may keep the blinds drawn on her innermost self. But she continues to wear her heart in her performing style. "The Dancer's Life" is not, sad to say, an electric show. But it cannot disguise the electricity of the woman at its center.

Chita Rivera: The Dancer's Life

By Terrence McNally; original songs by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty; directed and choreographed by Graciela Daniele; orchestrations by Danny Troob; musical concepts, arrangements and music direction by Mark Hummel; sets by Loy Arcenas; costumes by Toni-Leslie James; lighting by Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer; sound by Scott Lehrer; hair design by David Brian Brown; Jerome Robbins choreography reproduced by Alan Johnson; Bob Fosse choreography reproduced by Tony Stevens; biographical research by Patrick Pacheco; production stage manager, Arturo E. Porazzi; associate choreographer, Madeleine Kelly; production manager, Aurora Productions; music coordinator, Michael Keller; executive producers, Marty Bell/Aldo Scrofani; associate producers, Dan Gallagher/Michael Milton; general management, Alan Wasser Associates. Presented by Mr. Bell, Mr. Scrofani, Martin Richards, Chase Mishkin, Bernard Abrams/Michael Speyer, Tracy Aron, Joe McGinnis, in association with Stefany Bergson, Scott Prisand/Jennifer Maloney, G. Marlyne Sexton, Judith Ann Abrams/Jamie deRoy and Addiss/Rittereiser/Carragher. At the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater, 236 West 45th Street; (212) 239-6200. Running time: 2 hours.

With: Chita Rivera, Liana Ortiz (Little Chita Rivera/Lisa), Richard Amaro, Lloyd Culbreath, Malinda Farrington, Edgard Gallardo, Deidre Goodwin, Richard Montoya, Lainie Sakakura, Alex Sanchez and Allyson Tucker.