He was in his time, the greatest dancer, many people wondered why, but only a handful knew his secret. Michael Philately, the "Stamping Millionaire", will be missed by many thousands of dance fans all over the world. He was the man who gave the world the Jigular, the Jiggernaut, the thingumajig and a hundred other dances based on the folk dances of his old country. And more than this, his shows were more than just dance extravaganzas. They had everything, action, romance, formation dance routines. Even at his peak, Busby Berkeley was an amateur to dance’s self-proclaimed Boogie King. As he once proclaimed to a packed sports arena of dance fans, and excitable ladies of all ages, "Dance, Dance, wherever you may be." "We’re here!" they called back as one.
But behind all of the new dances, the new variations on old dances and the multimedia dance spectaculars, there was the man himself. A man with a secret. How could he dance so well? Were his feet really worth insuring for £100,000,000? Why did he always say "Thanks Fred," and wink at the floor every time he left a stage? Only a handful of people knew the answer to that, and they are not telling the likes of you and I. Even now that he has gone, this band of faithful accountants and loved ones are remaining as tight-lipped as ever. They are keeping mum. Which isn’t the secret.
Even if we don’t know the secret, we can still see the result of it any time we want. Whether we watch any of the 148 videos he produced (from Polka Nights to Conga Rat Eurasians), or whether we look back into our memories of those huge sell-out events, or TV Spectaculars. And we can cling onto what little of the man himself that we do know.
Born to a family of poor Irish theatre folk, young Michael soon learnt the meaning of graft, when he had to have skin from his bottom transplanted onto the side of his leg where he had received severe burns from a kettle of boiling water. After this it is known he became fascinated by this and similar processes. Not long after this he discovered the main passion that was to consume his life: Dance. At eight he had a lead role in a local kiddie musical version of the film Get, Carter. From then on, it was music and dance all the way. Before long he had his own dance octet, the Tarantul-8. Their early work was ground-breaking, not just in it’s style, and it’s use of narrative structures never before seen in dance, but also in a literal way, as Philately’s aggressive stamping would often cause the stage to begin splintering and require urgent repairs after each performance. It was this stamping more than anything, that brought people flocking from miles around to see such classic shows as Should I Stay or Should I Go-Go, and Rumba in the Jungle.
Rumours abounded at this stage of Philately’s interest in the occult, as well as his continued fascination with modern medical techniques. He was always a man of great passion whatever he threw himself into. Anything he was interested in, he would become an expert in that subject. You could not fault him on his knowledge of his dancing heroes. Mikhail Barishnikov, Fred Astaire, John Travolta. He loved them all. Fred Astaire especially. He even paid a pilgrimage to his grave in California a week after his funeral. Shortly after that he disappeared for three months. Later saying that it had all moved him so much that he had to go away and practice on his own until he was good enough to be compared with his heroes. The reclusion certainly helped. When he returned, everyone remarked how he had gone from being just another good dancer, to being one of the greatest dancers the world had ever seen. This is surely a measure of the dedication and commitment that this man had to his art.
Michael never looked back after that. He went solo, leaving his dance troupe to fall back into obscurity. He now only worked with the best. He had a Midas touch, every step he danced turned to gold. His productions always sold out and run after run had to be added to cater for the interest in them. He was the first dancer to stage a production (Waltz for Dinner) in the Hollywood Bowl. He was the first dancer to stage a huge international charity dance event (GallopAid). And he was the first dancer to bring out his own range of Mexican foods (El Paso Doble).
There was nothing he could not do it seemed. Even when his production of Lemon Merengue started to flop, he turned it down by selling the film rights, and making sure that he, himself, had the lead role.
His love of the world of dance went hand-in-hand with his great humanity. Last year, at a press conference he was reduced to hysterical tears by the news that the police had discovered that the tomb of Fred Astaire had been disturbed many years ago, and a secret exhumation had revealed that the body had been mutilated. In particular, he no longer had any feet. At this news Michael Philately put his hands to his face and shook as he hid the tears. But soon he was able to brave a smile and go on to the best (and last) performance of his life.
What caused the accident, we’ll never know. Many said it looked like he jumped into the huge fan designed to create the wind so important to his greatest production yet: the musical version of Twister. Others recall him shouting "No!" at his own legs as he toppled towards it. Reports are contradictory, but one thing we know for sure. It will be a long time before someone comes who could fill his dancing shoes.
Michael Philately whatever your secret, we don’t care,
Wherever you are now, you are dancing on air.
(c) Morbid Ernest 21/1/2000.