BROADWAY (By Marc Peyser, Newsweek) August 29, 2005 - Leave it to Chita Rivera to do a one-woman show about her own life and end up sharing the stage with eight dancers. "I came from the gypsies," she says. "Even today, when I was rehearsing my show with the boys, they had to say, 'Chita, move down,' 'cause I always wanted to be up with them." Of course, calling Rivera a gypsy is like calling Tiger Woods a duffer. She's only the greatest musical-theater dancer ever. Go ahead, argue with us. Better yet, argue with "West Side Story," "Bye Bye Birdie," "Chicago," "The Rink" and "Kiss of the Spider Woman," all of which originally starred Chita. What's more, she's in good enough shape—at 72!—to recreate her signature numbers in "Chita Rivera: The Dancer's Life," which begins a pre-Broadway run this September in San Diego.

"The Dancer's Life" follows the footsteps of Dolores Conchita Figueroa del Rivero, a girl from Washington, D.C., who wowed Balanchine (at 14) and Jerome Robbins (at 17) and hasn't stopped since. It's funny to think of Rivera's training under the elegant Balanchine, because her signature is passion, whether she was seducing a roomful of uptight Shriners in "Birdie" or inciting a rooftop riot in "West Side Story." She leaves her ode to the "West Side" showstopper "America" to the end of her own show, probably because it provided her biggest breakthrough and heartbreak—she was in-famously replaced by Rita Moreno in the film adaptation. Chita doesn't dish—"I don't believe in telling tales"—but the tart playwright Terrence McNally is crafting her dialogue, so expect a few juicy moments, including tidbits about her love affair with Sammy Davis Jr. and performing in "Call Me Madam" with the hurricane-force Elaine Stritch.

Besides, the main attraction will be the dancing. It was the reason she agreed to do the show. "I certainly had to be talked into it, and then I realized I had to," Rivera says. "I'm carrying Jerry Robbins, I'm carrying Michael Kidd, I'm carrying Bob Fosse." Don't look for her to re-create every dance-step-kick—she may be superhuman, but she's still human. "When we do 'Can-Can,' I don't do any cartwheels, but I don't have to," she says. "You know I've got a generator that's still popping."