Compassion meets passion in ‘Broadway in the Hood’

You're not here to sing, leap, whoop, holler, dance, yell, flip, glide, thrust, kick, grind, shout and nearly launch this rattling room into low-Earth orbit?

Out of the way.

They'll squash you like a freight train over an ant.

"LEEEEET THE SUN SHINE! LET THE SUNSHINE IN! THE SUUUUN SHINE IN!"

Her body twists in ways a pretzel would envy. His legs propel him up, out and into a split that, improbably, the crotch of his pants survives.

Behind them, a blur of a dozen-plus teen/20-something dancers earn a 2.0 on the Richter. Limbs akimbo. Pumping to the rhythm. Pulsating with a heartbeat that's a life force.

Only rehearsal? Seriously?

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"About 70 percent of these kids have never been onstage before," says Torrey Russell, the father/brother/teacher/taskmaster of Broadway in the Hood's brood of troubled souls-turned-dedicated troupers performing and perspiring at the Andre Agassi Boys & Girls Club.

Here in the Hood -- as in "Helping Others Open Doors" -- they're off drugs and on stage. They don't sell their bodies, they sell showstoppers. They're not abused, just enthused.

"We have in our program young people who have been through something," says Russell, co-founder of nonprofit Source of Joy Theatricals -- the umbrella organization of Hood, its theatrical component -- and a roly-poly ball of passion who often humbly declares that "I'm blessed" and has a laugh they can hear in Laughlin.

Prior to rehearsals, he quizzes his performers on their day in school, encouraging positive deeds, gently scolding when necessary, demanding homework be done, all with an outsized personality.

"(Some) were prostitutes and they don't mind saying, 'This is what I used to do,' " he says. "One is a professional model now. There's a young girl who was molested. We have two cast members who last week we had to help fund to get their lights turned back on. Our objective is to help them see the wonderfulness inside them. Take that talent and blossom."

Under Russell's direction, his "kids" -- they range from 6 to 80, but most fit the term -- will perform this weekend at the West Las Vegas Library in "The Best of Broadway Las Vegas: A Soulful Musical Celebration," a compendium of show tunes from 20 musicals ranging from "A Chorus Line" to "The Wiz" to "Gypsy" to "Jesus Christ Superstar" to "The Book of Mormon." For free.

Previous performances -- including opening for Whoopi Goldberg and poet Maya Angelou and appearing on the Golden Globes telecast -- earned them a nomination for an NAACP Theater Award. Only 18 months old, they drew critical raves for their local production of "Hiram & Nettie," about slaves who fall in love.

"I was in trouble a lot when I was younger," says 22-year-old singer/dancer Andrew Mays. "This is so community-oriented. No one is for themselves. Everyone is for each other."

Adds 37-year-old Vanessa Williams-Jackson: "We sing from our hearts, we love each other from our hearts. There are times you don't have food, they bring you food. It's respect and love."

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What -- or who -- is that? We're in "Dreamgirls" territory now, racing through the driving disco of "One Night Only" and that piercing solo voice belongs to ... a child? Can you mimic Beyonce while looking like "The Cosby Show's" Rudy Huxtable?

"When I was 3, I was in tap-dancing class," says 8-year-old Teshi Thomas. "That was a long time ago."

They're on to "Chorus Line's" anthem of theater gypsies, "I Hope I Get It," and "On Broadway," George Benson's funky ode to the Great White Way.

"I'm not liking the energy," says Russell, apparently expecting something closer to an NV Energy power surge. That's the demand of a pro who's been on Broadway in shows such as "The Me Nobody Knows," among others.

"Hey, if I can do it -- and I'm 36 and 300 pounds-plus -- then 16-, 15-, 14-, 18-year-olds can," he insists. Then he orders 50 jumping jacks -- "count off!" -- which he energetically receives.

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"When people hear the name Broadway in the Hood, they automatically assume violence and drugs, but our shows are here in the hood," Russell says. "We've had people call and say, 'There's no way I can come to MLK and Lake Mead, I don't feel safe.' But we all live in a neighborHOOD. None of us are separated."

Money is a perpetual issue for the group, born from the personal savings of Russell and co-founder Preston Coghill, and is still fueled by Coghill's catering gigs (a culinary program is part of the nonprofit's program) and Russell's vocal/acting coaching.

"We have not received any government funding and only one donation has been over a thousand dollars," Russell says. "I pray daily that the financial situation will change. I feel in my heart that by December, someone is going to step forward in Las Vegas and say, 'We see what you're trying to do, we see your vision.' "

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Belt it out:

"THIS IS THE DAWNING OF THE AGE OF AQUARIUS. AQUARIUUUUS! A-QUA-RI-US!"

Lyrics that could double as their mission statement: "Harmony and understanding; Sympathy and trust abounding; No more falsehoods or derisions;

"Golden living dreams of visions ..."

Contact reporter Steve Bornfeld at sbornfeld@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0256.