For David Parsons, the oldies really are the goodies. His company opened Wednesday at The Joyce with three mixed bills — and the best bets are the brief, amiable pieces Parsons made way back when.
His greatest hit is “Caught.” Made nearly 30 years ago, it’s a one-trick pony, but with a trick everyone loves: a solo in which strobe lights let a dancer move with freeze-frame magic across the stage. No surprise that it’s on every bill the company’s playing here.
“The Envelope,” made in 1984, is a goofy caper set to assorted, recorded Rossini. Dancers in sunglasses and black hooded outfits skulk about, purloining an envelope that just won’t stay hidden.
Fast-forward to the present, and things get rougher. Parsons’ new works are cliché-ridden and dull, and he puts his company through such wholesome and peppy motions, they might as well be part of Up With People.
One premiere, “Run to You,” is set to four songs by Steely Dan, but Parsons ignores the acerbic lyrics and focuses on the easy-listening sound. For much of the beginning, his dancers run and jog, then come forward at the end in little, show-offy pairings: It looks like expensive bar mitzvah entertainment.
There is one interesting new work, but Parsons didn’t make it. “Love, oh Love” is by Monica Bill Barnes. It’s to pop tunes by Lionel Richie, Kenny Rogers and Diana Ross, but when Barnes is being kitschy, it’s on purpose, and with bite. “Love, oh Love” might be happening at an imaginary party in the suburbs. The men are in black and white, the women in beaded tops that look like they were bought on closeout at T.J.Maxx. The cast uses Barnes’ signature moves: gestures and mime that break into frantic dancing.
Everyone’s looking for love, wherever and however they can get it, with awkward sincerity. The couplings are hetero and homo, but Barnes doesn’t make a big deal out of it. In the midst of the socializing, Miguel Quinones and Steven Vaughn find themselves chatting. Quinones beats a hasty retreat offstage — and returns without his pants. Vaughn takes his off, and soon the whole group is disco line-dancing — without pants.
Barnes is working with Parsons’ formula — brief dances to popular music — but comes up with her own brew. Her view of romance is dorky but tender. Love is no fairy tale, she seems to say, but somehow it will do.