BRING IN DA NOISE, BRING IN DA KRUMP.

Byline: Evan Henerson Theater Critic

FOR THE SECOND time this summer, a work of dance - born of the streets of L.A. - has the power to leave an audience slack-jawed and utterly blown away. But where David LaChapelle's documentary ``Rize'' puts the krump and clown dancers on screen, insisting that none of the footage has been sped up or tampered with, the members of ``Groovaloo'' are live on stage.

When you're talking about movement, that camera between us makes a major difference. Having sat five rows away from the Groovaloos for 70 amped-up minutes, I'm still not sure I believe what I saw or that human beings can move with that kind of precision and abandon. Potential audiences are encouraged to high-tail it to Toluca Lake to investigate for themselves.

Fifteen dancers, sporting nicknames like ``Outthere,'' ``Poe One,'' ``Lokn'key'' and my personal favorite, ``Flipz,'' spend the time hip-hopping, freestyling and all but making a street party out of the quite intimate Falcon stage. The group's founder, Bradley Rapier (``Shooz''), joins them on stage. His solo kicks off the performance, but Shooz (who developed the piece with director Danny Cistone) doesn't showcase. Or, rather, he showcases absolutely everybody.

``Groovaloo'' has ``A Chorus Line''-like aspirations; it wants to tell the dancers' personal stories. Individual performers work while their recorded voices recount narrative snippets from their experiences. A recurring tale has Charlie Schmidt (``Vzion'') walking out of a home rife with domestic discord and onto the streets of L.A., where he eventually encounters a new family, the Groovaloos. Well and good, but - at least at this stage of the game - the dance itself and its genesis come off as more intriguing than the performers. ``Groovaloo'' isn't telling a coherent story. Not yet.

Given that Cistone envisions the piece as a first, potentially still-evolving look at the Groovaloos (who have performed in several videos, commercials and films), the background-speak feels less like a miscalculation than an add-on. There are a lot of dancers to keep categorized, and Cistone's driving, let-it-all-go approach to the work doesn't foster much of a relationship between dancer and audience.

Indeed, how could it? Those of us who aren't Groovaloos (unlucky us!) aren't part of the circle. We can't do what they do and, at least on one level, we don't really need to know why they move. When not in motion themselves, individual members tend to stand around strategically draped against Yael Pardess' two-level urban playground of a set watching their friends tear it up.

They rarely dance with each other (at least not in pairs) or (as in ``Rize'') against each other. An exception - and a show highlight - is the mirror-image face-off between Rynan Paguio (``Rainen'') and Ivan Velez (the aforementioned Flipz) performed to Michael Jackson's ``Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'.''

Rapier and Cistone are to be credited for assembling this stable of dancers and for having plenty more ``swings'' in reserve. And the Falcon is to be heartily commended both for putting this work on stage and for marketing it to audiences 8 and over.

There may, after all, be future Groovaloos in the audience. We can certainly hope so.

Evan Henerson, [phone]

evan.henerson(at)dailynews.com

GROOVALOO - Four stars

Where: Falcon Theatre, 4252 Riverside Drive, Burbank.

When: 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday, 4 p.m. Sunday; through Aug. 28.

Tickets: $15 to $25. Call [phone] or visit www.falcontheatre.com.

In a nutshell: Movement is king. The hip-hop and freestyling Groovaloos are the emperors.

CAPTION(S):

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Photo:

Richard Vasquez, aka Steelo, contorts his body to the beat as his fellow dancers watch in ``Groovaloo'' at the Falcon Theatre in Burbank.