MR. BIG OF THE NEW JIG

By GINIA BELLAFANTE

To spend even a few moments with dancer/choreographer Michael Flatley in his off hours--say, the morning after a three-encore performance of his touring Irish-dance spectacular Lord of the Dance--is to know you are in the presence of someone for whom the gift of a Tony Robbins seminar would be as superfluous as a swimming lesson for Mark Spitz. Flatley knows well how to assert himself. When he isn't dancing, he is swaggering; when he isn't in stage sequins, he is wearing leather, diamonds and enough cologne to deodorize a landfill in July. At 38 and a compact 5 ft. 9 in., he resembles a cross between Mikhail Baryshnikov and Michael Bolton. He tends to speak in proclamation: "I know what I want out of life, and I go for it...I am a very confident individual."

Flatley's robust sense of self, combined with a stupefyingly energetic stage presence, has made him the center of a cultural phenomenon few would have predicted--a rage for the jig. As star of the two-year-old, 85-member Riverdance, the traveling Gaelic dance show, Flatley hopped, stepped and high-kicked to exultant houses in London and Dublin. When he parted ways with the company in October 1995 over a bitter, and still unresolved, creative dispute, he fashioned Lord of the Dance, a glitzier rival extravaganza showcasing his talents and the updated, freer-form manner of Irish dance he helped pioneer.

The success of Riverdance and its spin-off has been remarkable. Lord of the Dance began its U.S. tour this month with 13 sold-out performances at Manhattan's 5,854-seat Radio City Music Hall. Having made its debut in Dublin last June, it reached New York City via London, New Zealand and Australia. Riverdance now maintains two touring companies, and producers are putting together a third. The show will return to the U.S. in September after a string of sold-out performances last year. Riverdance the CD won a Grammy last month and remains the top-selling album on Billboard's world music chart. pbs broadcasts of both productions have garnered high ratings for the network during pledge-drive months. Taped versions of Riverdance and Flatley's new opus are, respectively, the second and third best-selling home videos in the country (just behind Bambi).

Before Flatley came on the scene, Irish dance was a rigid affair that required performers to hold their arms tightly at their sides. Flatley, an American-born son of Irish parents, acquired his interest in traditional dance from his mom and dad but did not start taking lessons in his native Chicago until he was 11, an age deemed too old by teachers. In the years to come, he spent most of his time overcompensating with endless practice sessions in his parents' garage. He went on to win dance contests all over Ireland and ultimately loosened up the genre by letting all his limbs fly. In 1994 he was fortunate enough to catch the eye of Dublin TV producer Moya Doherty, who decided to build a show, Riverdance, grounded in the unconventional style of Flatley and another dancer, Jean Butler. Their modern take on an old genre has earned the respect of classical dancers. Says Septime Webre, artistic director of the American Repertory Ballet Company: "The precision and uniformity with which these dancers execute their steps is on par with the great ballet companies of the world."

While fans may be hard pressed to select their favorite between the two troupes, most critics have no problem. Having hailed Riverdance for rejuvenating the Irish jig, most reviewers have derided Lord, which has Flatley blasting onto the stage in puffs of smoke, as a sort of Siegfried and Roy with tap shoes. "There is only one word for it all," wrote Ismene Brown in London's Daily Telegraph: "embarrassing." But harsh comments do not deflate Flatley. "When there are 7,000 people in an audience cheerin', and there's one guy who doesn't like what I'm doin', what does it matter?"

What has shaken Flatley, however, is the acrimonious nature of his split from Riverdance. Flatley was dismissed from the company following stymied contract negotiations during which producers refused to accede to his demands for full artistic control of the show. "I walked out on $75,000 a week because I wanted to dance free," says Flatley. At the time of the negotiations, the British press painted a somewhat less romanticized picture of Flatley's aspirations. It was widely reported that he demanded, for example, expanded homage in the program notes. Such reports, Flatley insists, "are lies, out-and-out lies."

Flatley is suing his former employer for copyright credit and a share of the royalties. How much Flatley contributed to the making of Riverdance is hotly disputed. Riverdance producers have maintained that choreography for the show was collaborative, not a Flatley solo effort. Ask Flatley how much was his, however, and he coyly answers, "Only the dancing parts." His dismissal from the show, he says, "was like the car firing the driver."

This thorny history has left competition between Riverdance and Flatley's own venture less than amiable. At the start of Flatley's tour, promoter Harvey Goldsmith claimed that Riverdance executives were pressuring certain venues not to book Lord of the Dance. Flatley, in turn, is not above taking public jabs at his onetime bosses: "Took Riverdance a year to sell one million videos--Took Lord of the Dance under 12 weeks to sell 1.5 million," boasts his press material.

The Riverdance producers are not the only people with whom Flatley has had tumultuous business relationships. Since his rise to stardom with the company, he has gone through a long list of lawyers and handlers. Former Lord of the Dance publicist Mark Borkowski left Flatley this year. "He's focused on one thing, and that's himself," says Borkowski of his former client. "I can't be at his beck and call every moment of the day. He wanted me to stay, but I have a business to run." In January Flatley fired his manager John Reid for not being sufficiently film oriented.

Now, Flatley is stomping into Hollywood with the help of an influential team of publicists and talent agents. He was scheduled to perform at the Oscars this week, and a movie project is in the works, based on his life and set against the world of Irish dance. "If I make a film, I'll do it the way I want to do it," Flatley says with characteristic bravado. "If I make something, I want it to have a touch of class." And probably a touch of spandex.

--With reporting by Julie K.L. Dam/London and Jeanne McDowell/Los Angeles

With reporting by JULIE K.L. DAM/LONDON AND JEANNE MCDOWELL/LOS ANGELES