In her modest dance studio – two free-standing barre, a couple of posters on the back wall, a semblance of mirrors on the side walls – the woman we will come to know as Patrice (Sandra Norman) is alone and silently planning her class as the audience takes their seats. She dances in what feels like a poignant reverie of bygone days.

As her four pupils arrive, set about preparing for the class and commence their exercises, our interest is piqued as to who they are and why they are here. Three are women, relatively senior in dance terms (i.e. over 40) and one is a young man. Patrice’s exhortation to “Dance as if your life depends on it, don’t be mediocre, dance for me, dance for yourselves …” produces an “acceptable. Not great but acceptable” result.

The ensuing work-out through the basic ballet movement vocabulary at the barre and on the floor is intercut with monologues from each participant which sometimes expand into small scenes, with the other actors playing roles.

Tess (Lorna Rosevear) is an overworked teacher who comes to class to reconnect with her love of ballet. Her body image issues date back to her time at a dance academy. Lou (Bea Lee Smith) is a driven family court lawyer who needs to take her own advice to clients and make time for herself. The dance classes might be the ticket if only she’d turn her cellphone off. The personality clash between Tess and Lou is established early and has to be mediated by Patrice.

Mary (Felicity Cozens) is coping with the loss of her husband and comes for companionship, not that any deep friendships are formed. Her lack of self-confidence suggests a dependent personality and may say something about her departed husband. Guiseppe (Otto Kosok), listed in the credits as Joe, is the longed-for only son of immigrant Italians who expect him to work with his older sister in a family restaurant but all he wants to do is dance. He has graduated from dance school with big dreams but failed auditions now pepper his days.

Tess encourages Guiseppe to audition for an Australian production of A Chorus Line and records him doing a dance on her phone – but this, like many seeded elements in the script, goes nowhere, unless a brief look at his phone and a shrug is the resolution of that plot line. (A Chorus Line also involves characters narrating their life stories while seeking the limelight on Broadway.) It’s a bit hard to credit why Guiseppe is coming to this genre of dance class when his sights are on musicals.

Each character gets a solo dance which is not part of a class scene. Some may be seen as somewhat expressive of their inner state. Or maybe the idea is simply to give each performer a moment, as often happens in classical ballet. Either way these interludes moves beyond mere exercises.

At one point Patrice suggests they should perform for their friends and families – but nothing comes of that either – unless this play-with-dance is it. While the stories play out smoothly in a well-modulated manner, there is no strong objective drawing anyone into present action. More opportunities to reveal the characters and relationships in actual behaviour, rather than narration, would also strengthen the show.

Characters do progress somewhat, in small ways, but not enough for an 85 minute show. Much more could evolve from the seeded elements to create a richer drama. Each actor/dancer is well invested in their character, they work well together and the result is pleasantly watchable but – despite the enthusiastic whoops with which members of the opening night audience greeted the curtain call – I’m tempted to conclude with a quote from Patrice: “Acceptable. Not great but acceptable.”

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