"African Footprint" takes a halfhearted stab at narrative, starting out in myth and working its way forward, charting the progress of humanity from the dawn of man to the present day. It's an ambitious conceit, and to work it would probably require better choreography to back it up.

Debbie Rakusin and David Matamela have put together the larger numbers with an engaging complexity, but the individual or duet dances unwisely beg comparison to actual ballet. The flapping of arms and shaking of moneymakers works great in a group; when one girl does it by herself, you sort of feel bad for her. When she does it with a handsy partner, you're not sure you should be watching.

The show's aural landscape is both its greatest asset and the stage for its worst screw-up. Consider this innovation, for example: designer Mark Malherbe has miked the floor, so when the cast breaks out tap shoes and gumboots with rattles attached at the ankles, the dancing mixes enjoyably with the expert percussion. At the same time, any number of instruments and voices are being piped into the mix, so it's hard to enjoy the skillful singers and musicians when it's impossible to locate their contributions amid all the fakery.

"African Footprint" is almost unbearably noisy in the average-sized Skirball center, where the speakers throb so violently with drums and vocal harmonies that the sound is distorted in the higher registers.

However, there are two moments in the show worth the price of admission. First, there's a wonderful dance-off between an orange-clad team of gumboot dancers and their rivals, a legion of tappers in yellow jumpsuits. It's like that old "Dueling Banjos" number, but with shoes. Secondly, there's a terrific tap sequence using five-gallon metal paint cans (a shameless heist from "Stomp"), conducted by a team of men in odd '20s-style formalwear that includes only the plaidest of pants.

"African Footprint" exists in a strange netherworld between international cultural event and touring commercial pop spectacle. Much of it needs to be excised, but with a couple of dramaturgical tweaks and some technical fine-tuning (the lighting looked like it was being mixed on the fly), this is a show that could live a very respectable life touring regional performing arts centers.
 
Set, Anthony Farmer; costumes, Lindy A Grindlay; lighting, Declan Randall; sound, Mark Malherbe; percussion orchestrations, Richard Carter; production stage manager, Karen Pace. Opened, reviewed Feb. 2, 2008. Running Time: 1 HOUR, 40 MIN.