“I couldn’t wait for it to end.” It’s an expression that many theatergoers use when telling friends about a show they hated. Well, I couldn’t wait for Billy Elliot: The Musical to end, but for a completely different reason: I couldn’t wait to hear the titanic ovation that David Alvarez was going to get for playing Billy.

Talk about a triple threat! Any kid who plays Billy is certainly going to have to dance, because, of course, a good part of the story involves this young lad’s discovering the world of ballet. He must go from literally putting his a toe in the metaphorical waters to slowly but surely commiting to a way of life that confounds his working class father and brother. But Alvarez was able to show Billy’s dancing grow and grow and grow, so that each piece he did was more sensational than the one before it.

Not long after Billy was told that dance isn’t just “a technical exercise” but also “a very personal expression from within,” Alvarez achieved the latter in a most dramatic first-act curtain. But even earlier, after his first real dance, he astonished the audience. Greg Jbara, who’s wonderful as Billy’s confused and conflicted tough-guy father, stepped on the applause Alvarez was receiving. That’s usually a no-no, but had not Jbara stopped it, the show might have never resumed, for we’d be clapping still.

Because of that father and brother conflict, there are plenty of scenes where Alvarez must act, too, and he shrewdly built from what’s-the-use funk to plenty of backbone-resolve. He even turned out to be expert at waiting for a laugh, after a young ballerina, smitten with him, offered to show him her “hoo-hoo.” He was in no rush to answer her, not the way the audience was enjoying the moment. And please don’t miss the moment when he gets the letter from the Royal Ballet. Even the way he moved his fingers over the envelope, postponing his learning what may well be awful news, was terrific.

But even in the scenes where there’s no particular conflict, Alvarez was top-notch. What a look of admiration he gave when he met his ballet teacher-to-be, Mrs. Wilkinson, before his face started to display, “I don’t know why I’m here, but let me stay a few minutes longer.” Alvarez showed a lad who’s trying on his dancing exercises as if they’re new clothes, and wasn’t he suprised when he looked in the mirror to see how well they fit? Trouble is, his father and brother hated that he was fiddling around with dance while they burned in their own private hell: It’s 1984, and they’re part of the now-famous United Kingdom Mine Workers Strike.

And, of course, because this is a musical (and not a Doug Henning one), a kid cast a Billy will have to sing. Throught act one, this seemed to be Alvarez’ Achilles vocal cord — or was he saving his voice for his 11 o’clock number, “Electricity”? Perhaps, because his voice seemed genuinely infused with just that. He was so superb there that we forgave him every first act vocal flaw.

With such yeoman demands placed on a young man, somewhere along the line when Elton John and Lee Hall were creating the musical, one of them or a co-worker must have said, “We might as well forget about this show right now. How can we possibly find a kid to do this eight times a week?” Well, they couldn’t, and they never expected to. Billy Elliot offers its own mini-repertory company, in that three performers alternate as Billy, while two take turns in playing his transvestite pal Michael. (I saw Frank Dolce, who’s wondrous fun as the male who, pro-rated by age, must be the best-adjusted and most fearless transvestite in history.) I guess I’m going to have to see all five, because I’m with the Theatre World Awards, which bestows prizes on people making impressive debuts, and all five kids are new to Broadway. It’s okay. I’ll gladly return. If the other kids are in Alvarez’s and Dolce’s league (and I suspect they are), I’m more than ever going to be exclaiming, “Where did they ever find these kids?!” (I’ll learn pretty soon, for Finding Billy Elliot, a documentary on the search, will air exclusively on Thirteen/WNET Monday December 1 at 8 p.m.)

While I won’t say Billy Elliot is a great musical, it certainly is a good one. To exclaim that the score by Elton John is his best yet doesn’t say much; his work on The Lion King, Aida, and Lestat have not made me throw my hat in the air. But this is his most truly theatrical score, and one can only imagine how much better it might have been were John the type to be interested enough in musicals to attend rehearsals and previews.

There are effective moments in the book which Lee Hall based on his movie (though some may have come courtesy of director Stephen Daldry). How smart in the opening scene, where the miners are deciding whether or not to strike, that a bunch of univolved little kids run around the room playing; that subtly reminds us that these coal porters are family men who desperately need their income. We learn what’s at stake through one of the most serious opening numbers in Broadway history.

Near the end of the show, we experience Billy’s greatest triumph yet — only to be immediately learn that the miners have lost not only a year’s pay, but also the strike. It’s a moment that is almost as dramatically arresting as the one in The King and I, where Anna and the King get the closest they’ve ever been in “Shall We Dance?” only to find, seconds later, they’re worlds apart again when the King is about to whip the renegade Tuptim.

While a lesser writer might have offered an utterly unselfish and inspiring dance instructor, Hall makes Mrs. Wilkinson like the teachers in The Education of H*Y*M*A*N K*A*P*L*A*N who sang, “If you want to be an ever-lovin’ teacher, you gotta be out of your ever-lovin’ mind.” She may have a cigarette dangling from her lower lip, but she’s no Bob Fosse, and she knows it. There’s a tender scene where Billy shares with her a letter his mother wrote to him when she knew she was dying. Billy knows every word by heart, and recites it as she reads. It gives the advice a parent always gives: “Be yourself.” Yes, but the late Mrs. Elliot had no idea when she made that statement that Billy would pursue ballet. She might not have said the same thing she survived, for she might not have understood the ballet world any more than her husband and older son do.

Interesting, though, that the miners do stage an annual Christmas show where everyone sings and — yes — dances. Guess they just rationalize that it’s their “Once a Year Day.” That song, by the way, is called “Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher.” For years, people have been speculating what the Avenue Q authors are going to do with their “George Bush” line come January 20; well, I don’t want to see Billy Elliot the night after the now-very-ill 83-year-old Thatcher dies. (I suspect she will before this show does.)

Which brings me to another point: Perhaps Billy Elliot will be the hot ticket of this season and next one, too. But if it isn’t, I’m going to suspect, as so many others already have, that its British-centricity will have hurt it. When The Full Monty morphed from movie to musical, the setting was changed from Sheffield, England to Buffalo, New York. Billy Elliot might have profited from a switch from Northern England to West Virginia. At least that way, audiences wouldn’t be hearing British accents as thick as a foggy day in London town.

No, you say, the mining strike is based on what really happened when Thatcher played tough with the miners – and won. Changing that would mean losing the tuneful and bitterly ironic second-act opener. Sure, but we would have been okay with a fictional story about Appalachian miners who went on strike, and hated the mine owner who had a two-syllable first name and a two-syllable last one as well.

Even if Americanized, Billy Elliot may seem too overly familiar to many audiences. In A Day in Hollywood, a charming 1980 revue about Tinseltown, there was a song that offered a long, long list of film cliches, and it included, “Gee, why can’t I make you see I’ve got music inside of me, Pa?” That’s Billy Elliot.

Fascinating, too, that the story isn’t about achieving fame and fortune, but “just” getting into a school. As any graduate of a conservatory can tell you, getting in is just the start of struggle, which can be life-long. The original Billy Elliot movie let us know that the kid made it; the stage show doesn’t. Does this mean that we’re in for Billy Elliot: The Post-Ballet School Years? Fine with me, as long as David Alvarez is one of the three who plays the title role.

You may e-mail Peter at pfilichia@aol.com